Deadly Schemes
by LazyPandicorn
Summary: "She imagined how his face would look if, one day, he learned of her schemes to assassinate him and his dear nephews. She imagined how he would scream at her, curse at her, threaten her. She imagined how he would recoil from her, a look of disgust and utter betrayal on his face. For she would be nothing more than a traitor to him. Could she bear to see that day?" OC/Thorin OC/Kili
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

There were once two thieves. Two skilled, gifted thieves.

But they were very different, these two rogues.

One was called the Wraith, with dark features and a black hood. When that name was whispered around shadowy alleyways or story circles, the room quieted, and mothers pulled their children close. The Wraith stole anything that wasn't nailed down, and, even then, could steal the nails too.

The other wasn't nearly as feared, but very well should have been. No knowledge was safe from the Sage, for that was what this all-knowing swindler was called. The Sage knew everything about everyone, and then some. Although not physically apt, the Sage more than made up for it with an uncanny ability to retain information, and a knack for digging up secrets.

These two thieves knew of each other, of course, but never found the other one a threat, a sort of unspoken treaty between them stopping them from interfering with the other's work.

That was, at least, until they had their eyes on the same prize.

Everyone knew the legend of the Lonely Mountain, and how Smaug the Terrible had conquered the once-magnificent kingdom of the dwarves. But no one had ever paid this story much mind, for it was only ever just that-a story.

Stories, however, are often much more than just light tales made up on the spot by frustrated parents to scare children into eating their vegetables. Yes, they are often so much more.

Word had spread that the dragon, Smaug, had not been seen for nearly fifty years. Was the beast even still alive?

And of course, what would ever happen to all of that gold?

For as many knew, a great hoard of gold and gems and riches lay beneath the stoney halls of Erebor, a wealth that would allow for a meager farmer to live a life more grand than that of ten kings combined. The great treasure of the dwarves, yes, that was what excited people the most.

Such an elusive and dangerous task appealed greatly to the two infamous rogues. If they were to succeed, if they were to reclaim Erebor, they would be enormously rich.

But it wasn't even just the riches that tempted the two thieves.

As a half-dwarf, the Sage wanted to rebuild the ancient kingdom. A life spent collecting the petty secrets of regular townspeople had grown boring, and a new distraction was very much needed. The Sage may have been a thief, but that did not mean that in that great, evil mind there did not linger a trace of goodwill. There were hundreds of dwarves wandering aimlessly in the wilderness, and their suffering troubled the Sage. However, she did not wish to simply help the dwarves. No, this power-hungry thief wanted to be Queen-ruling alongside no one else. She was willing to kill the heir to the throne, and would stop at nothing to see that she was Queen.

The Wraith had a different reason for wanting to venture to Erebor. Being elves, the Wraith's family had been captured and killed shortly after the incident with the dragon. The Wraith wanted to prevent the dwarves from ever rising to power again. In the Wraith's mind, the world would be done a service if this cursed race were never to ascend to the throne once more. She planned to assassinate the royal Dwarven line, which, judging by her skills, would be simple.

One quest would change everything.


	2. Chapter 2: Intrusions

"You cannot be serious," Thorin exclaimed, looking at the elderly wizard for any signs of jest.

"Deadly serious, I'm afraid," Gandalf replied, furrowing his brow. "If we are to," he paused, looking around at the crowded inn for any signs of an eavesdropper, "Reclaim Erebor, we will need all the expertise we can get. And these two thieves-"

"But they're burglars!" Thorin cried, flinching when he realized how loudly he had spoken. Lowering his voice, he added, "They steal for sport, Gandalf. Having them join the company would be dangerous!"

"You said you wanted me to find the fourteenth member of our company-a burglar, I might add-and now I have done so," Gandalf said, his voice lined with indignation.

"I asked for _one_ burglar, Gandalf, not two deranged rogues without an ounce of morality!" Thorin hissed. "Besides, who's to say that they'd even care to join our company? It seems like they have a perfectly fine time ruining the lives of the townspeople here," he muttered.

"Word has spread of Smaug's absence," Gandalf said grimly. "Everyone is looking to the mountain, Thorin. The dragon has not been seen for nearly fifty years. People begin to have hope that-"

Something changed in Thorin's face, a true terror passing over his features. "You mean to say that others are plotting to reach Erebor as well?" he growled, looking around menacingly at the patrons of the inn, as if these poor farmers and merchants were the ones planning to overtake the mountain.

"Yes," Gandalf said, his voice grave and fearful. "And if these thieves have not heard these rumors as well, then they surely do not live up to their names." With one last significant look at Thorin, he added, "I plead you to speak with them, Thorin. Without people of their skill, I doubt your company will be able to reclaim the kingdom." The wizard stood up from the table and, donning his grey hat, strode out of the inn and into the rain.

Thorin watched the old man go, a hundred thoughts swirling through his mind. All he had ever wanted was to do well by his people, and now that the chance to take back their homeland had finally arisen, he couldn't bear to think of letting it slip away again. But allowing two untrustworthy thieves on board with their mission… the thought made him shiver. Surely there had to be someone else- _anyone_ else-who would be up for the job?

But no one else _was_ up for the job. He had spent the last several weeks searching for someone to fill the last, fourteenth position of his company. And he had come up empty. It seemed that although rumors of the possible death of Smaug had excited people, it wasn't enough to make them want to actually be the ones to put the rumors to the test.

Now, two, talented thieves seemed to be up to the task. Of course, they were two, _crazy_ thieves, but if he could get just _one_ of them to join, perhaps it would be alright. They couldn't possibly dream of succeeding in retaking Erebor without a proper burglar. It would be worth the risk, Thorin decided. If it meant his people would have a home again, he would risk everything to see that it was done.

Getting up, Thorin walked over to the bar counter, at which a handful of bedraggled men were sitting, guzzling beer from metal tankards. He heaved himself up onto one of the stools and waved the bartender over. The bartender, an equally disheveled man, scurried eagerly over, wiping down the counter with a grimy cloth. "How can I help you, sir?" he asked, his voice thick with nasal.

"What can you tell me about the Wraith?" Thorin asked, watching as the bartender's face froze, the man's hands dropping the washcloth. Thorin had chosen the Wraith out of the two options Gandalf had presented, for, as he had learned from the old wizard, the Wraith was a far better thief than the Sage, as the other rogue was called, and would be better suited for the job he had outlined for the burglar of his company.

"The Wraith?" the bartender squeaked, causing the men around them to pause their drinking and peer over in their direction, their eyes wide.

"Yes," Thorin said, his voice wavering slightly.

"Well," the bartender began, his eyes wide. "She's a thief, and a mighty good one at that. They say she once stole a fifty-pound chest of jewels from right out under the mayor's nose." Some of the nearby men nodded in agreement, seeming to have heard the same story as well. "Nothing's safe from her," the bartender went on. "No locked door can keep her out. She's been causing trouble here in Bree for nearly a decade now, but no one's ever been able to catch her."

"Nearly a decade, you say?" Thorin repeated. "How old is she, exactly?"  
"No one knows for sure," the bartender replied. "But those who've seen her reckon she's about eighteen."

Thorin had to bite his lip to keep from smirking. These fully grown men were quivering and shaking from the thought of a mere teenager? "Do you know where I can find her?" he asked, some of the trepidation he had been feeling beginning to lift. If this thief were truly only eighteen-not even an adult yet-then what was there to fear? A young girl couldn't possibly be so dangerous, or at least not as dangerous as these men were making her out to be.

"Where you can find her?" the bartender snorted. "Did you hear nothing I've just said? No one's ever been able to catch her, not even the Sage! And that's saying something."

 _The Sage_ , Thorin repeated to himself. That was the name of the other thief Gandalf had told him about. The intellectual one, the one who knew everything about everyone in the town, who knew exactly who spoke to whom about what, and when they had done so. If the Wraith was so elusive, perhaps he could approach her instead.

"So you don't have any idea where I could find either of them?" he asked the bartender. "The Wraith or the Sage, I mean."

"No," the bartender replied, as if it were an obvious answer to a stupid question.

With a sigh, Thorin dug a few coins out of his pocket and threw them on the counter. "Do you have any rooms available?" he asked. It was late, and he didn't feel like heading back home through the rain.

Thorin awoke to the sound of someone kicking his bed.

Startled, and more than a little alarmed by the sound, he sat up quickly, nearly jumping out of his skin at what he saw. At the foot of his bed stood a cloaked figure, a hood drawn over it's face to shield it from view. The figure was tall, obviously a human or an elf.

Tearing the sheets off of him, Thorin sprang out of bed, reaching for the sword that he had placed on his bedside table and brandishing it at the intruder. "Who are you?" he demanded, peering closely at the visitor. "Speak quickly, or I'll slit your throat."

A glint within the blackness of the hood's cowl showed that the figure was rolling their eyes. "I doubt it'll be you doing the slitting," the figure snorted, the voice seeming to be female. "Now put your sword down. We have things to discuss."  
"You didn't answer me," he growled, glaring suspiciously at the figure. "Who are you?" He tightened his grip on the sword, prepared to launch a full attack at a moment's notice.

"I am the Wraith," the figure said, as if it were obvious.

"The Wraith?" Thorin repeated, astounded, his grip loosening for a moment. Had he not just been looking for her earlier that night? But his surprise soon turned to suspicion as he pondered the coincidence more carefully. This was too simple. Too easy. "You lie," he spat, stepping closer to the woman. "Speak the truth."

"Oh, sorry," the figure said theatrically, another shimmer within the darkness of her hood telling him that she was rolling her eyes yet again. "You got me. I'm actually a talking cow who breaks into people's rooms in the middle of the night and pretends to be the Wraith," she exclaimed shrilly. "Seriously, Thorin. I expected you'd be a little... well, a little smarter than _this_."

"How dare you?" Thorin snarled indignantly. Never had he been insulted so brashly by _anyone_ , let alone by an eighteen-year-old girl. Without thinking, he lunged at the figure, his sword slicing through the air, aimed at the woman's heart.

In a flash, the woman had unsheathed a pair of dual daggers, blocking his incoming attack easily and disarming him with a twisting motion, his sword clattering to the ground.

"Now sit," the Wraith commanded, nodding towards the table and chairs in the corner of the room.

Thorin bristled. "Who are you to order me around like a peasant?" he barked. "I am-"

"-Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain," the Wraith supplied, with yet another eye roll. "Only you don't have a mountain. Yet. Which is why you need me."

"What?" Thorin exclaimed. "How did you-"

"Sit," the Wraith interrupted again, gesturing impatiently to the chairs.

Reluctant, but too curious not to oblige, Thorin cautiously eased into one of the rickety wooden chairs, the Wraith sliding into the one across from him.

"How did you even get in here?" Thorin asked.

"The door, stupid," the Wraith said, exasperated. With astoundment, Thorin looked at the doorway, finding that the bolt, which he had slid into place himself earlier that night, was undone.

"Why are you here?" he demanded, peering more closely at the figure sitting across from him. Her face was still mostly shadowed by the hood, but he could just make out the barest outlines of a young-surprisingly young-girl's features within the darkness.

"To ask you for a place in your company," the Wraith answered, in the naive way that she did that made it sound like Thorin's questions were beyond stupid.

"Why?" Thorin probed, startled.

"I have my reasons," the Wraith supplied evasively. "But you don't need to know those reasons, Thorin Oakenshield. I'll be a part of your company. I'll steal whatever you want me to steal. As long," she gave him a pointed look, "As you don't ask too many questions. Like you're doing right now."

He gave a short, clipped laugh. "I have a right to ask questions, don't you think? You just broke into my room in the middle of night, and you won't even take off your hood to show me who you really are. What reason have you given me to trust you?"

"You don't need to trust me, Thorin," the Wraith answered. "You know I'm your last hope, and that no matter how hard you may try to see around it, I'm the only one who will get the job done." When she noticed Thorin's change of expression, she added, "Without me, you don't stand a chance against the dragon."

"Actually," another voice jutted in, "That's not entirely true." The door to his room creaked open, and another figure slipped in, this time, a shorter woman who seemed to be of the dwarf or hobbit race. She was quite pretty, with platinum blonde hair that was tied up in an elaborate updo, and a young, pleasant face.

"What in Arda…" Thorin breathed. "Why do people keep barging in here?"

"Elle," the Wraith growled, her muscles tensing beneath the dark fabric of her cloak.

"Jasmine," the new intruder replied, just as sharply. "How quaint. You found your way here all on your own. That's a first."

"It seems you've grown slow," the Wraith growled. "I got here way before you did."

"Perhaps," the woman-Elle, presumably-replied, her voice dripping with a false sweetness. "But I see you didn't succeed in charming Thorin," she said, remarking on Thorin's own skeptical expression. "You were never very good with people, Jasmine. Maybe you should have stayed in the shadows where you belong."

Thorin surveyed the conversation between the two tensed women, utterly perplexed. "What's going on?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

* * *

 **Please favorite, follow and review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3: First Introductions

Jasmine turned back to Thorin, trying to ignore the presence of the other woman. "Thorin," she said, hoping her voice didn't sound as desperate as she felt. "We may not see exactly eye to eye, but we need each other if we are to complete this quest, and you know it." She studied his face, looking at her with confusion and doubt. If only she had Elle's persisting skill when it came to speaking with people. Elle could persuade people to do practically whatever she wanted, which was why Jasmine had taken extra care to reach Thorin before Elle did. But apparently, she hadn't been nearly fast enough. That was how it was with Elle-you were always just a bit too slow.

"You really want to pledge your company's fate to this vagabond?" Elle asked, in her chiding, humored way. She looked at Thorin, her bright green eyes meeting his. "I would like to volunteer myself for the position of burglar in your company," she supplied, giving her signature seductive smile.

"Hold on," Thorin said, furrowing his brow. "I still have no idea who you are," he added.

"My name is Elle," Elle said sweetly. She stepped a pace closer to Thorin. "But you may have heard of me as the Sage."

"You're the Sage?" Thorin asked incredulously, squinting at the woman before him, as if searching for something evil about her, like a pair of fangs or a crude-looking weapon. But he found none. Yet another difference between Jasmine and Elle. Although they were both known as notorious criminals around Bree, people were always shocked when they heard that Elle was actually the Sage. She was such a sweet, innocent-looking young woman, while Jasmine fit everyone's idea of a perfect villain-dark features, quick-tempered, and always hiding within the darkness of her hood.

"She's a lying sneak is what she is," Jasmine growled, shooting daggers at Elle, who promptly narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, and you're much better?" Elle laughed shortly. "You, a pickpocket and a robber?"

"At least I don't blackmail people just for fun!" Jasmine shot back.

"At least _I_ don't steal the prized possessions of innocents townspeople," Elle said tightly, turning away from her and back towards Thorin. "I believe I can prove myself most useful, sir," she said, curtseying slightly. "I have read much lore surrounding the lost kingdom of Erebor, and may be of much help when it comes time to defeat the dragon."

"What use is _lore_?" Jasmine scoffed. "When you're a second away from being incinerated by a dragon's fiery breath, is a _book_ really going to save your life?"

"Acting with educated decisions _will_ save your life, not acting like a reckless teenager," Elle clipped, scowling at her.

* * *

Thorin looked between the two women, utterly bewildered. In front of him were Bree's most infamous crooks, and yet here they were, fighting and bickering like children. Of course, one of them nearly was a child, being only eighteen, but such behavior was naive even for someone of her age.

And he had thought he would have difficulty trying to fill the burglar position in his company, and now here were two highly skilled thieves fighting for that very spot.

But something was still nagging at him, something that seemed off about this whole situation. Something that the Wraith-Jasmine, as he had heard Elle call her-had said earlier. _We need each other if we are to complete this quest_. What did Jasmine-and Elle-want? What was in it for them?

"Why are you two even here?" he asked. "Why do you want to join the company?"

"That's none of your business," Jasmine snapped at the same time that Elle cheerfully quipped, "Where do I begin?"

Thorin opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

"I'd like to help you reclaim Erebor and rebuild the city to it's former glory," Elle continued, clasping a hand to her chest dramatically. "As a half-dwarf, the loss of the greatest kingdom in Middle Earth saddens me greatly, and the thought of my kin suffering in the wild…" the woman trailed off, biting her lip. "I know it sounds silly, and you may not believe me, but I really do want to see Erebor restored, and I want to help you do so."

The Wraith snorted. "She's not telling you the full story," she muttered.

"At least I'm telling him a story," Elle snapped. "You're not even being honest and telling him why you're here."

"He doesn't need to know that," Jasmine shot back. "I'll be the burglar, and he won't ask questions. It's a simple transaction."

"I bet if you took off your hood it wouldn't be so simple," Elle hissed, her voice treacherous and warning.

Jasmine stiffened, and Thorin could see her retreat further into the darkness of her cloak's cowl.

Thorin examined the interaction between the two of them, feeling torn. On the one hand, he wanted to recruit one of them-or both of them-to join his company so that they could finally depart for Erebor. After so many years of waiting, he was desperate to get on the road. But, neither one of these women seemed very trustworthy. Elle's story seeming fake, and Jasmine not even telling him her motives, let alone the nonsense with the hood.

But wasn't the future of his people worth a little risk?

"Alright," he said, catching the attention of the two thieves. "I'm recruiting both of you."

"What?" Jasmine shrieked, next to her, Elle, looking equally startled.

"Yes," Thorin said again. "Both of you will be of use to our company. So both of you will be a part of the company."

"No, no, no," Elle said hurriedly. "Thorin, you don't understand-"

"Either both of you are coming along, or neither one of you is," Thorin snapped. "Meet me and the rest of the company in the inn stables tomorrow morning at first light. And don't be late."

* * *

Elle traveled down the streets of Bree, keeping her head low. She couldn't afford to get snatched up by some local authority, at least, not now, not after all she had gone through to get to this one moment.

The events of last night kept replaying through her mind, each detail crystal clear. Of course, that was how all of her memories were-each one sharp and completely accurate. That was how she had earned her title as the Sage. But this memory-this one seemed important.

She reached the inn in record time, quickly glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Then she scurried behind the building, around back to where she knew the stables were located.

She was ready for the adventure of a lifetime.

* * *

Jasmine watched as the stumbling figure in a green traveling cloak grew nearer, making it's way down the hill to the stables. _Elle_ , she thought, a smile gracing her lips. Elle might be a persuasive, manipulative mastermind, but when it came to stealth, she was like a fish stranded on land.

Jasmine had gotten to the stables half an hour early, as she always did, when she was meant to meet someone somewhere. Arriving early allowed her to map out her surroundings, in case she needed to make a quick escape. A tactic that often came in handy.

When Elle looked up and saw Jasmine already sitting upon one of the hay bales in front of the stables, her brows knitted together. "Jasmine," she said curtly.

"Elle," she replied, just as shortly.

They stood in silence for a moment, neither one of them wanting to be the one to break it.

"I know why you're here," Elle said after a moment. "And it's only a matter of time before the others find out."

"I know why you're here too," Jasmine replied, pulling her hood protectively further over her head. "And I doubt you'll last long either."

"How long do you think you can hide behind that thing, Jasmine?" Elle snorted, jokingly reaching out, as if to snatch the fabric of the hood away, revealing Jasmine's face. Instinctively, Jasmine flinched away, her hands flying to the daggers hitched to her belt. With a smirk, Elle lowered her hand. "See? You won't last a day."

"And what's _your_ genius plan?" Jasmine said evasively, trying to change the subject. "Planning to get all cozy with Thorin and then-"

"If you dare repeat to anyone what you're about to say," Elle began, her voice taking on a dangerous edge. "I'll tell them exactly why _you're_ here, and I can guarantee that they won't be too eager to forgive you."

"Deal," Jasmine agreed reluctantly. "Neither one of us tells."

"Deal," Elle nodded.

At that moment, voices nearby jolted them back to alertness.

A pair of two dwarves, one dark-haired and the other blonde, were making their way towards the stables.

Jasmine watched the two dwarves draw nearer and nearer, her fists clenching, unclenching and then clenching again. Even so many years after the incident, the sight of even one halfling made her blood churn.

When the dwarves reached the stables, Jasmine stiffened, fighting the urge to reach for her dagger. The two dwarves glanced at them warily, their eyes lingering on her. She, a tall, cloaked figure next to a sweet, innocent Elle, must have looked like quite the rogue.

"Are you…" the blonde dwarf began, looking between them. "The burglar?" It wasn't clear to any of them, even the dwarf himself, who he was directing the question at.

"I'm Elle," Elle volunteered, holding out her hand with a cheery smile on her face.

The blonde dwarf shook it cautiously, his doubt seemingly nowhere near satisfied.

"I'm Jasmine," Jasmine said reluctantly, slowly inching away from the others. It had been years since she'd last spoken with so many strangers, and the situation was making her astronomically uncomfortable. She didn't hold out her hand.

"Oh, going by Jasmine now?" Elle smirked. "Was 'the Wraith' getting too boring?"

"I outgrew it," Jasmine replied icily, glaring at her.

The two dwarves looked utterly perplexed, but the dark-haired one quickly recovered, a cocky smile crossing his lips. "So, which one of you is the burglar?" he asked.

"Both of us," Jasmine grimaced, saying it out loud making her want to vomit.

"Really?" the blonde one asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Unfortunately," Jasmine cut in, rolling her eyes.

The dark-haired dwarf gave a small laugh, his huge brown eyes meeting hers. It was one of the first times anyone had ever looked at her directly before, at least, not without anger or fear. When he looked at her, his eyes were full of curiosity and interest and humor, something she had never seen, especially not directed at her. But when his eyes crossed hers, she felt a sort of intrusion, as if an invisible hand were pulling back her hood, leaving her utterly exposed. Before a few seconds had passed, she tore her eyes away.

* * *

 **Yes, the two thieves were acting rather childish in this chapter. :P I promise they'll get more mature later on.**

 **Also, I plan on focusing mainly on Jasmine for this fic, but the spotlight will be very much on both Elle and Jasmine. There will still be narratives and chapters written from each of their points of view, but there might be slightly more Jasmine chapters.**

 **Please like, follow and review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4: Control

The dark-haired dwarf soon introduced himself as Kili, the blonde one as Fili. Elle eagerly smiled at the two of them, while Jasmine shrunk from the two dwarves, retreating further into her hood. _This poor girl_ , she thought with a smirk, watching as Jasmine's cheeks, darkened by the shadow of her cowl, flushed when the dark-haired dwarf looked at her. _When the dwarves find out why their burglar is really here, they'll have a field day with her execution._

On the other hand, if the dwarves ever found out what _she_ was doing here, she'd likely be killed too.

She had to be careful. They both did.

At that moment, more voices from just beyond the hill rose into the air, causing the four of them to look towards the horizon for the impending visitors. Elle saw the shadows of a large grouping of dwarves cross the hilltop, and then their owners, bearded and burdened with heavy bundles of luggage, follow along after them.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Fili and Kili waving excitedly to the rest of the dwarves, their faces giddy with youthful bliss. She smiled, their happiness seeming to radiate from them like rays from a sun. Behind them, she saw Jasmine, sulking on the hay bale, her gloved hands grasped around the handle of her daggers. If the girl couldn't control herself around these dwarves, her cover would be blown in an instant.

But that was all well and good for Elle. The more socially incompetent her opponent was, the easier it would be to sweep in and get what she wanted.

Which was exactly what Elle always got.

* * *

As the last group of dwarves finally reached the stables, Jasmine felt her skin prickle. _Why do I still feel so angry?_ It had been so many years since that fateful day, and yet she still saw the faces of the dwarf rebels in the faces of every dwarf she'd seen since. She still heard the screams of her parents every time she heard a dwarf speak. She still felt the tense, putrid air of the underground torture chamber whenever a dwarf was within a few feet of her. She knew she should move on. But she couldn't.

There were eleven dwarves in the group that had just arrived, Jasmine counted, her eyes easily spotting Thorin, what with his regal stature and fur-lined robes. He looked her way, his eyes gliding over her and Elle, locking onto the eyes of the Sage for the briefest of seconds. Jasmine smirked. Elle's plan was working splendidly if Thorin already felt an affectionate tug for the young half-dwarf thief. If he only knew what she planned to do once she had caught him in her lustful snare.

"Who are they?" asked a few suspicious mutters and whispers from within the crowd of newly arrived dwarves as their eyes followed Thorin's gaze, lingering over the two women.

"They are our burglars," Thorin said flatly, clearing his throat and tearing his eyes away from Elle's green ones.

"Burglars?" A dwarf with a tattooed scalp exclaimed, emphasizing the plural meaning of the word. He sniffed the air, his eyes flicking to Jasmine. "And they're women." He said this last bit as though it were a curse.

Jasmine bristled, her hands flicking to the knives she kept strapped to her belt. Without thinking, she unhitched one of them, hurling it forcefully at the tattooed dwarf, the blade hurdling slicing through the air with a satisfying tearing noise. The dwarf just barely managed to catch the knife out of the air before it embedded itself in the side of his head.

The group was silent for a moment, all heads turned towards her.

"How dare you?" the tattooed dwarf demanded, taking a menacing couple of steps towards her.

Jasmine growled. She knew she shouldn't have thrown that knife-heck, she might have just destroyed her chances of earning a place in this company already. But she didn't care. She wouldn't sit around and let someone-a _dwarf_ , especially-insult her and her capabilities.

The dwarf advanced on her, brandishing his axe. "I'll have your head, I will!" he screeched, the axe carving through the air between them, heading straight for her neck.

"Dwalin!" Thorin barked, stepping forward to block the attack.

Dwalin paused, turning to look at Thorin, seeming more like a child scolded by a strict father than the commanding, forceful dwarf he had appeared only seconds before.

"Jasmine," Thorin glared at her, his narrowed eyes peering past the veil of darkness that her hood provided and staring straight into her own dark eyes. Gulping, Jasmine averted her gaze. But she could sense that Thorin had not done the same.

" _This_ crazed lunatic is our burglar?" Dwalin exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Thorin, but I think you've made the wrong call here."

"I hired Jasmine and Elle as our burglars," Thorin began, his slitted eyes snapping between Jasmine and Dwalin. "And if any of you-our new burglars included-cause any havoc, I will have you removed. Understood?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Jasmine nodded, trying to ignore the pressing stares of the other dwarves.

* * *

"Your horses, Thorin Oakenshield," the bartender from the previous night emerged from the stables, leading a group of ponies behind him.

"Thank you," Thorin replied, gratefully taking the reins of the nearest pony and mounting it. "We ride at once," he commanded his company.

"What about Gandalf?" his nephew, Fili called.

Thorin paused. He had forgotten all about the old wizard. "If he does not show up by-"

"I'm here, I'm here," Gandalf's familiar voice echoed past the stables, as his cloak-clad body followed with it.

The wizard's eyes stopped when he reached Elle and Jasmine, who were standing a little ways off from the group. "Ah," he said, stepping towards them. "You must be our burglars."

"Yes," Jasmine replied, her voice dripping with annoyance. She seemed not yet to have calmed down from the incident with Dwalin.

"The Wraith? The Sage?" The wizard glanced between the two of them, smiling kindly. "You are most welcome here."

"The Wraith?" Dwalin snorted. "The Sage? What are they, circus performers?"

Thorin saw Jasmine restrain herself from reaching for her daggers again out of the corner of his eye.

He needed her expertise. But if she couldn't control herself…

Sucking in a breath, Thorin called out to his company, "Mount your horses! We ride now!"

* * *

Jasmine, being one of the tallest of the group, had been given given a real horse, while many of the others were given ponies. She smirked, watching Dwalin fussing with the reins of his unruly pony. It was immature of her, she knew, but she couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the sight of the burly, grim-faced dwarf atop an innocent, furry half-horse.

They had been riding for several hours, but Jasmine had been careful to keep to herself. After the incident with Dwalin, the dwarves seemed eager to steer their ponies a good six feet away from her.

All of them, it seemed, except Kili.

The dark-haired dwarf and his horse (being a particularly tall dwarf, he had been awarded a horse as well, something that he was rather proud of) were inching ever closer to her, making her grind her teeth in discomfort.

Up ahead, Jasmine noticed Elle riding alongside Thorin, their heads turned towards each other, obviously engaged in conversation.

 _Elle, you little sneak_ , Jasmine thought, and tightened her grip on the reins. She'd need to control herself if she wanted to stay in this company. Elle, with her perfectly measured emotions and carefully spoken words would be hard to beat, but Jasmine could do it.

Probably. Maybe. Perhaps not.

"No one's ever done that before," a voice next to her spoke.

Turning, Jasmine found herself facing Kili, who had maneuvered his horse so that they were right next to each other.

"What?" Jasmine asked, confused. Her daggers fell at her sides with each gallop of her horse, tempting her, calling to her. _No_ , she scolded. _Not now. You need to have control_.

"Earlier," Kili elaborated. "When you threw the dagger at Dwalin. No one's ever had the guts to face him like that."

Jasmine rolled her eyes. "Still going on about that are you?" she muttered, turning away.

"No, I mean," Kili stammered, his eyes widening in alarm. "I mean, it was neat. What you did." When she turned back to him, eyebrows raised, he added, "Just between you and me, I think Dwalin kind of needed it. He's been a little to egocentric lately, and needed the perspective." When he saw her smile, he grinned back.

"Thanks," she said slowly.

Kili looked back at her, his lingering gaze making her squirm. She could see his eyes squinted slightly, trying to make out her face through the darkness of her hood's cowl. "Do you ever take that thing off?" he asked, gesturing to the hood.

"No," she snapped, perhaps a little too forcefully. When he flinched, she added, "Sorry, it's just…" She paused, unsure of what to say next. _Damn it, Jasmine_ , she thought. _Why can't you just speak like a normal person?_

Kili said nothing, seeming to understand that she would rather the conversation didn't persist. But it felt nice, Jasmine noticed, to have him alongside her.

* * *

"Thank you, Elle," Balin said kindly, taking the bowl of stew that she offered him.

Flashing him her biggest smile, she continued on, looking for the rest of the company members. She had taken it upon herself to cook and distribute the company's dinner for that night. Elle had long since figured out that the true way to earn the affection of dwarves-especially male dwarves-was to feed them.

They had set up their first camp somewhere in Rhudaur, along the Great East Road. Elle had heard rumors of monsters-even trolls-to dwell in these forests, but thought it best not to linger on the matter.

She scanned the camp, looking for Thorin. Her eyes found him quickly, for she had grown accustomed to the sight of his regal stance, his dark braids, and his fur-lined traveling cloak. Elle tiptoed over to him, joining him beside the fire.

"I made some stew," Elle said sweetly, holding the bowl out to him. When he took it, their gazes met, and she felt her stomach clench, a jittery feeling emerging in her heart. He looked so innocent, so confused right now, the tense, kingly face she had seen earlier that day gone. Thorin was scared, she knew. Scared that he would mess up. Scared that he would fail his people and forfeit his kingdom. Scared for everything and anything that could go wrong.

"Thank you," Thorin said hoarsely, tearing the bowl from her hands and averting his eyes again.

They were silent for a moment, Elle's brain running through the hundreds of possible things she could say to further her own motives. But when she was around Thorin, nothing worked as it always did. For once in her life, the Sage, the woman who could talk her way into and out of any situation, was at a loss for words.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed that chapter! Please check out my other 2 stories, The Moon's Dream and The Daughter of Fire and Greed. :)**

 **Also, each and every favorite, follow and review is so very much appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5: The Trolls

"Wake up! Wake up!"

Jasmine bolted awake, unsheathing the curved sword she had always kept by her side. She had accidentally dozed off, she realized with sudden alarm, and had been sleeping for what seemed to be several hours, judging by the darkened sky. When she saw that it was only Kili who had been nudging her awake, she exhaled a sigh of relief and sheathed the blade again.

"Why do you sleep with that thing?" he asked, nodding towards the sword.

"Why do you wake up sleeping women just to ridicule them?" Jasmine retorted, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Point taken," Kili said, laughing.

"Why _did_ you wake me up anyways?" Jasmine asked, her heart still pounding from the sudden wake-up.

"Well," Kili began, glancing off towards the other dwarves, who were preparing to turn in for the night. "I-well, my brother and I-we've… umm… encountered a slight... problem."

"A problem?" Jasmine repeated, standing up. "What kind of problem?"

"Thorin put me and Fili in charge of watching the ponies," Kili said shamefully. "But we've lost two of them already."

Rolling her eyes, Jasmine asked incredulously, "How do you lose two ponies in only a few hours?"

"I don't know," Kili mumbled, averting his eyes.

"I'll go take a look," Jasmine relented, the sight of the dwarf so dejected making her want to help the poor prince.

Relieved, Kili led her through a thin layer of trees to the clearing where Fili and the pack of ponies stood. Fili seemed to be just as frenzied as Kili, and was frantically counting and recounting the ponies.

"Daisy and Bungo are missing," Fili said at last, after recounting the number of ponies for the tenth time.

"Shouldn't we tell Thorin?" Jasmine interjected.

"Best not to trouble him with such… er… lowly matters," Fili said evasively.

"What do you think happened?" Jasmine asked, looking between the two ashamed dwarves. "Did they run off?"

But at that moment, they heard the sound of voices-deep, booming voices-up ahead.

"Did you hear that?" Fili whispered, hunkering down behind a fallen log to listen more closely.

Jasmine and Kili followed in pursuit, leaning towards the source of sounds.

"Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrow," one voice said.

"Quit yer' griping. These ain't sheep. These is West Nags!"

"Oh, I don't like `orse. I never `ave. Not enough fat on them."

"Well, it's better than the leathery old farmer. All skin and bone, he was. I'm still picking bits of him out of me teeth," the first voice added.

"Trolls," Jasmine whispered, a split second before Kili did.

"As our official burglar," Fili said softly. "Perhaps you should take a look."

"Backing off like cowards, are you?" Jasmine hissed, glaring at the two dwarves, who shrugged at her sheepishly. "If you aren't the two weakest dwarves I've ever met," she muttered scornfully.

"We'll be right behind you," Kili said, reassuringly. "If you need any help, just hoot twice like a barn owl."

"Twice like a-what the hell? I don't need your silly signals," she snapped. And with that, she crept off into the forest, being careful not to step on any of the crunchy leaves that littered the forest floor.

She quickly and soundlessly reached the trolls' camp, but it took her a moment to get her bearings once she had done so. The trolls, put plainly, were quite enormous, and they made even Jasmine's steely heart begin to pound a little faster.

One of the trolls-the third who had spoken earlier-sneezed, sending a flurry of snot into the pot of stew that one of the others was tending to, making Jasmine wrinkle her nose.

"Oh, that's lovely, that is; a floater," one of the trolls said.

"Oh, might improve the flavor!"

"Ah! There's more where that came from," the sneezing troll said again, but before he could let loose another snot-storm, one of the trolls tackled him to the ground, screeching, "Oh no you don't!"

Jasmine tore her gaze away from the bickering trolls and towards the pen where she noticed that the bucking, anxious ponies were being kept. Carefully, she slunk over to the pen, eyeing the ropes that bound the horses with disdain. She could pick practically any lock, pry open any deadbolt, and crack the code to any strongbox, but these ropes were thicker and knottier than any she had ever seen. Checking to make sure that the trolls were still distracted, she tested the knot, seeing if she could cut it loose with her daggers. The blades cut slowly through the rope, making her grit her teeth in impatience. But the trolls didn't seem to notice, so she kept sawing at the bonds.

At last, she broke through one of the ropes, flinging it aside, relieved. The first of the two ponies strolled out of the pen, giving her a grateful squeal.

"Shh!" she scolded the horse. "You need to be quiet!"

But the other horse seemed not to have heard her. It let loose a triumphant _NEIGH!_ as it escaped the pen, causing the trolls to glance back at Jasmine and the two horses.

"Oi!" one of the trolls shouted. "What happened to 'em 'orses?"

"There's a girl back there too!" another troll shrieked. "She was lettin' 'em 'orses free, she was!"

"Get 'er!" the third troll commanded, launching both himself and the other trolls towards Jasmine.

Jasmine always held her ground during a fight-she had long since learned that retreating showed your opponent that you were weak, and only gave them more confidence. But when three fully grown trolls came rushing at her, appearing confident was the last thing on her mind. So, naturally, she ran like hell.

Despite Jasmine's remarkable speed, the trolls were larger and faster. One of the trolls scooped her up in his massive hand, causing her to give a sudden shriek of surprise as she was lifted into the air.

"Who are yer?" the troll asked, holding her up to his brutish face. The rest of the trolls gathered around his outstretched hand, upon which the startled Wraith sat.

"I-I-I…" Jasmine stammered, trying to get her bearings. She felt around at her sides for her daggers, but found that they had fallen out of their sheaths when she had been lifted off the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see them, fallen and discarded, by the ponies' pen.

"Well, out with it!" the troll shouted, grabbing her by her boot and dangling her in the air. "Speak!"

At that moment, she heard a battle cry from the side of the clearing, and, turning her head to look, saw an entire company of dwarves come rushing out from the trees. Thorin, leading the dwarves, wielded his axe, the blade heading straight for one of the troll's leg.

"Dwarves?" a particularly nasal troll exclaimed.

The troll that had been holding Jasmine dropped her. She flipped around once in the air, allowing her to land on her feet. Looking around her, she saw Kili aiming an arrow at the troll's head. Rushing over to him, she held out her hand. "Could I borrow that?" she asked, gesturing to the sword he had slung over his back.

"You want my sword?" Kili asked, surprised.

"Yes," Jasmine hissed. Behind Kili, she saw one of the other trolls come lumbering towards them, reading to attack. "Quickly!"

Kili seemed to sense the troll behind him too. He unsheathed the sword and threw it to her, giving her enough time to hurl it at the troll, the blade embedding itself in it's stomach, causing it to howl in pain.

Kili winced. "That was harsh," he remarked, watching the troll crumple to the ground.

"Harsh is my middle name," she retorted, causing him to smirk.

"Well, I think Thorin might have overestimated your thieving abilities," Kili said jokingly. "We ask you to free two ponies and you end up starting a massacre."

"If you hadn't _lost_ the ponies, I wouldn't have had to go save them in the first place," Jasmine laughed. "So when you think about it, it's really all your fault."

"You offend me, my lady," Kili exclaimed theatrically, clasping a hand to his chest. "Truly."

Suddenly, she heard a high-pitched shriek from the other side of the camp.

* * *

It was in the hold of a monstrous, hungry (and not to mention, very angry) troll that Elle found herself contemplating her life.

The dwarves, Jasmine, and the other remaining troll were all looking at her now. Elle was being held aloft by the scruff of her cloak, the fabric gripped tightly in the troll's thick fingers.

"Lay down your arms," the troll who was holding her squawked. "Or I'll rip 'er's off!" He grabbed one of Elle's arms with his other hand to show that he was serious.

Elle watched the faces of the dwarves anxiously, praying that she'd made a good enough impression on them to ensure that they were willing to sacrifice themselves for her safety.

Thorin threw down his sword with a growl, setting an example for the others to do the same. Elle noticed that Jasmine took particularly long to stick her daggers into the sandy ground, but alas, she did so eventually.

 _Thank you_ , she silently prayed, her frightened eyes meeting Jasmine's. The other thief gave her a curt nod.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! As always, don't forget to follow, like and review! :)**


	6. Chapter 6: A Leg Up

"Don't bother cooking 'em! Let's just sit on 'em and squash 'em into jelly!" one of the trolls bellowed as he turned the stake over the fire over once. Some of the dwarves were tied to the stake, their bodies in burlap sacks.

"They should be sauttéed properly, with a pinch of sage," another troll responded.

"Is this really necessary?" Dori asked as his sack-tied body hovered over the flaming bonfire beneath the stake.

"Ooh, that does sound quite nice," the first troll said dreamily.

"Oi!" Oin shouted from his position on the stake. "Untie us you monsters!"

"Take on someone your own size!" Gloin added.

 _They're only going to make it worse by yelling at them_ , Elle thought, biting her lip. Her own body was constrained by a sack, and she was lying on top of the pile of dwarves off to the side of the camp. Those (thankfully) not being slowly burned alive on the stake had been bound and tossed into a pile in the corner… for later consumption?

Elle didn't want to find out.

"Blimey!" the second troll shouted. "The sky's growin' lighter!"

"I don't fancy being turned to stone," the other troll replied, a hint of fear in his voice.

 _Turned to stone_ , Elle thought, recalling the legends she had heard about how trolls, when confronted with sunlight, turned instantly into solid rock. _Perhaps…_

"Let's jus' eat 'em raw, then!" the other troll shouted gleefully, plucking an unsuspecting Bombur from next to Elle. Elle flinched at the sudden movement, watching in horror as Bombur was held aloft, his braided beard dangling dangerously close to the troll's open jaws.

Several of the dwarves cried out in protest, but the troll didn't listen, his beady eyes fixed on the fat, trembling dwarf hovering tantalizingly close to his mouth.

 _I should just let him die_ , Elle told herself. _It would make my job a lot easier anyways, if there were one less dwarf to… deal with later on. But…_

She couldn't bring herself to do that.

"Wait!" she shouted, mustering all of her strength to pull herself up into a standing position. "You're making a terrible mistake!"

A silence fell over the camp, and the two trolls turned to look at Elle, Bombur resting just above the troll's now closed mouth.

"What?" one of the trolls asked, stepping closer to Elle. "What did you say?"

"I-I-I," Elle stammered, the shadow of the incoming troll darkening the ground in front of her. "I meant with the seasoning," she finally forced out.

"The seasoning?" the other troll, the one holding Bombur, barked. "That's rubbish, that is!"

"Shut up!" the other said. "I want to see what the lady has to say about the seasoning."

"Well," Elle began, racking her brain for the best way to delay the trolls. If she kept them occupied for long enough, morning would arrive, and they would be saved by the rising of the Sun. If she couldn't…

"Hurry up, then!" the troll shouted, raising her from her calculations.

"You see," Elle started, putting on her most innocent face and plastering a grin on her reluctant jaws. "I've trained with the highest of chefs in Bree. Have you heard of Sir Leopold? He is a renowned chef in that town, and he taught me many things in my time spent training with him," she babbled, making up the story as she went along. One of these trolls was obviously interested in cooking, and would, hopefully, take some interest in her senseless story about whatever famous chef she had just conjured up.

Or, at least she hoped he would. Which of course, he didn't.

"Quit yer' babbling!" the troll screeched, advancing on her. "Get to the point!"

"Right," Elle squeaked, her mind recalibrating. "You see, what I was trying to say…" she looked back at the dwarves trying to find a plausible reason _not_ to eat them. To the trolls, they must have looked like bite-size, scrumptious nuggets rather than filthy, rude dwarves.

That was it. _Filthy_.

"You don't want to eat these dwarves," she said, scrunching up her nose a little bit. Reluctantly, she leaned closer to the troll and held a hand to one side of her mouth, as if they were sharing a secret. "They're infested with worms," she whispered.

"Worms?" the troll shrieked, stumbling backwards in horror.

"Yes, they're all infected with huge, nasty parasites," Elle continued, laying on her acting thick. "I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't," she added, shaking her head vigorously.

"Parasites?" she heard Oin yell. "Did she say parasites?"

"I don't have parasites!" Kili added indignantly. " _You_ have parasites!"

Rolling her eyes, Elle gave the dwarves a significant look, hoping they would catch onto her plan. But they continued yelling and protesting, causing her to inwardly cringe as she watched the trolls look between her and the dwarves, a look of utter confusion on their faces.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thorin kick Kili and Oin in the shoulders from where he lay in his own burlap sack. The two looked back at their leader, all at once understanding the plan.

"I've got parasites as big as my arms!" Kili said suddenly, forcing Elle to suppress a snort.

"Mine are the biggest! I've got huge parasites!" Oin added.

"We're riddled," Fili chimed in.

"Yes, we're riddled," Dori echoed from his spot on the ever-turning stake.

The trolls looked at the dwarves with an expression of new disdain. Then, one of the trolls (who seemed to be the smarter of the two) gave Elle a suspicious look. "What would you have us do then?" he asked, stepping closer. "Let 'em all go?"

"Well…" Elle trailed off. "It would be for your own health-"

"This ferret is taking us for fools!" the troll barked to the other.

"Ferret?" Elle repeated indignantly, bristling.

"Fools?" the other troll asked.

"The dawn will take you all!" a deep, commanding voice echoed from the boulders above them.

Looking up, Elle saw the familiar grey-clad figure of Gandalf the Grey, his staff having just cloven a large rock in two. Through the newly made crack in the boulder, the morning sun was shining, causing the trolls to stumble backwards in shock.

"The light!" one of the trolls shrieked, clutching his head in pain.

Both beasts moaned and staggered around the camp for a few seconds before promptly solidifying into rock-solid stone.

The camp fell silent for a good while, everyone staring at the bodies of the trolls in wonderment.

* * *

Once the last dwarf had been safely pulled from his sack, the company gathered together around Gandalf, who was performing a head count.

"Bombur, Bofur, Bifur…" the wizard counted. "Alright, we have everyone."

"It's a good thing you came when you did, Gandalf," Oin gushed, looking ready to hug the wizard in joy. "We were about to get eaten by those horrid trolls!"

"It's a good thing your burglars are quick thinkers," Gandalf countered, shooting Jasmine and Elle significant looks.

"But did it have to be parasites, Elle?" Kili asked, a look of mock hurt crossing his face. "I have a reputation to maintain, and pretending to be infested with worms doesn't help my image."

"Seriously," Fili interjected. "That was disgusting, Elle."

At the roaring agreement of the other dwarves (and the chuckling of Gandalf), Elle rolled her eyes. "You're just lucky I was able to think of _anything_ in time," she argued. "I saved your lives, you know. You could be a bit more grateful," she said, unable to hide her grin. "Besides," she added in somewhat of an undertone. "It might still be true."

More roars of protest.

"You insult us, lass," Bofur laughed.

After the laughing had died down, Thorin strode over to Elle, his sharp, kingly features softened slightly. He clapped her on the shoulder, a forceful act that nearly made her knees buckle. "I think Elle has proven herself to be a valuable member of our company," he said, his ice-blue eyes meeting hers. Elle smiled back, her heart fluttering from the excitement of finally being trusted by the company.

* * *

 _What am I? Chopped liver?_ Jasmine narrowed her eyes as she watched Elle and Thorin gaze at each other, her stomach churning. _Who freed your stupid ponies, you ungrateful dwarves?_ Sure, she had been the one to technically start the whole troll-dwarf encounter, but it was only in an attempt to save Fili and Kili from getting yelled at by their uncle for losing Daisy and Bungo.

And now Elle had the leg up on her. Instead of both of them being viewed by the company as strange, untrustworthy outsiders, Elle had now gained their support. And Jasmine was still stuck at the bottom, fighting to control her impulses and silence her instincts.

Elle was viewed as the smart, useful burglar, and Jasmine was still just the useless liability.

Normally Jasmine wouldn't have given a horse's head over whether a bunch of vile, probably-parasite-infested dwarves liked her or not, but for her plan to work, she needed them to trust her, or, at least for the time being.

Her plan? Kill the whole lot of them and stop their race from ever assuming control of the throne again. It was revenge, really, for what their kind had done to her parents all those years ago.

Elle's plan, she knew, was quite similar. As a dwarf herself, Elle truly did want to retake Erebor and slay the dragon. But she also wanted to be Queen, a title she could only earn by marrying into the throne. Thorin, Jasmine had deduced, was the most inviting candidate, and, she could see, Elle was doing quite well in seducing him. Once Elle had married Thorin, however, Jasmine knew that Elle planned to assassinate her newly earned husband and his nephews, meaning that she would be the only one left to assume the role of ruler of Erebor.

Elle had more work to do, and, as an inexperienced assassin, would have difficulty with the last stage of her plan, but as she had spent her entire life talking her way in and out of situations, Jasmine didn't doubt that the woman would have any difficulty with achieving her goal.

Jasmine only had one, very unplanned stage to her own endeavour, but wondered if she would be able to keep her cover for long enough so that she could wait for the right time to assassinate the royal line. It would be easy, with her skill, to kill off the Durin's, but it would be harder to find the right time to do so.

And there was something else that might complicate her plan-her relations with a certain dark-haired prince whom, according to the goal she had spent her whole life training for, she was supposed to kill within a few months time.

* * *

 **So we finally get a more in-depth view of why the two thieves are here, and what their plans are. I know Jasmine is a bit headstrong and slightly immature, but I write her that way to portray the social differences between her and "The Sage" (Elle). Each of them have their own strengths, and Jasmine's strength is definitely not talking to people is a very smooth way. ;)**

 **Please favorite, follow and review so I know whether or not to continue! :)**


	7. Chapter 7: It's Just A Sword

"The trolls' cave should be around here somewhere," Gandalf said, almost completely to himself, as they stumbled along the overgrown forest path, searching for, as Gandalf had told them, a nearby cave that housed all of the trolls' treasure.

"Are you sure we _want_ to go poking around in a trolls' cave?" Elle half-whined, running and panting to keep up with the company (a lifetime of hardly ever doing any physical activity was really catching up to her during this quest). "Haven't we had enough of trolls for… I don't know… a _lifetime_?"

"I assure you, Miss Elle, that there are no live trolls in the cave we are about to visit," Gandalf said reassuringly.

Elle was not reassured.

"Look! Over there!" Fili shouted, pointing to a dark crack in the side of the mountains that stood to their left. "I think I see a cave!"

"Fine eyes, Master Fili!" Gandalf said, a smile creasing his already-lined face. He led the company towards the opening that Fili had just noticed.

"Agh," Elle, Fili, Kili, Jasmine, Nori and Bofur gagged as they went to stand at the mouth of the cave, getting their first whiffs of the terrible stench that still lingered in the cave.

"Trolls are not known for being particularly sanitary creatures," was all the comfort Gandalf gave as he herded the reluctant, disgusted company further into the darkened opening, lighting his staff by a means of guiding them through the dimness.

Around her, Elle could make out the glimmer of treasure chests, coated in several decades worth of cobwebs and grime. Curiously, she peered more carefully through the murky gloom and saw great shadowy shapes of swords, chests and coffers that were piled carelessly along the sides of the cavern.

"We shall gather fresh weapons here," Gandalf instructed. "But we must not linger. Although I feel confident that we are quite safe _now_ , I do not know how quickly that will change."

 _That made me feel_ loads _better, Gandalf_ , Elle thought to herself, pinching her nose with one hand and holding a torch that Gandalf offered to her in the other.

The other dwarves, Gandalf, and Jasmine went right to work, opening the cobwebbed chests and unsheathing the swords from their racks on the walls, searching for new daggers, bows, blades and whatever else warriors-something that Elle was not-used and needed.

Nonetheless, Elle found herself fascinated by the jewels that lay inside treasure chests, and went to work sorting through them, tucking some into her cloak pockets when she knew no one was looking.

* * *

"Have you picked a sword yet?" Kili asked, causing Jasmine to flinch in surprise.

"What? Oh, right," Jasmine said, holding out her selection. It was a simple, curved blade, longer than a dagger by a wide margin, but not quite a real sword. She had mainly picked it because it was the fastest of the ones she had seen so far in the cave, and she greatly valued and relied on speed in combat.

"I haven't chosen mine yet," Kili groaned, looking at the walls of sheathed swords. "There's so many, and I don't know where to start."

"Don't you use a bow?" Jasmine asked, remembering seeing the oaken bow and arrows at the Durin prince's side. _Why do I remember that?_

"Good of you to remember," Kili gave her an irritatingly cocky grin. "I do usually use a bow, but Uncle says I have to 'expand my wheelhouse,' or some nonsense like that, and ordered me to find a sword to use and practice with," he moaned. "I hate swords. Always have. They're too tricky to manage."

 _I could help you pick one_ , Jasmine almost said, before restraining herself. _Remember the plan_ , she reminded her brain. _You can't get too close to him. You'll only make it harder for you to kill him later on_.

"Good luck," she said shortly, making a move to walk away.

But Kili caught her by the wrist. "Aw, come on," he said, forcing her to face him. "You could at least point me in the right direction," he pleaded, his huge brown eyes rounder than saucers. "I know literally nothing about swords," he added, watching the refusal and sternness on her face slowly break away.

"Fine," she huffed. "I'll help." At Kili's irritating grin, she quickly looked away. "But only for a few minutes." She snatched a sword at random from an open treasure chest on the ground. She held it out in front of him, squinting slightly to test the proportions of the sword to his arm and body.

"This one's too wide and slow for you," she muttered, throwing it on the ground. Picking up a thinner, lighter one, she unsheathed it, only to immediately hurl both sword and sheath back onto the floor. "And that one takes too long to unsheath," she explained to the utterly bemused Kili.

"How do you know all that so quickly?" he laughed, looking skeptically at the two discarded swords.

"Lots of practice," Jasmine answered with a smirk, selecting an even thinner sword from the racks on the wall. "Try this one," she said, holding it out to him."

Taking it from her, Kili unsheathed the blade, giving the shining sword a few whirls through the air. "It's nice," he said, swinging it a couple more times. "I mean, I don't know much about swords, so I don't really-"

"It's not right," Jasmine said all of a sudden, snatching it back from him. "When you find the right blade, you'll know it immediately."

"Really?" Kili asked. "How can you be sure, though?"

"You just are," she replied, scanning the walls for another sword. Her eyes fell on a curved blade in a dusty, blue sheath. _That's the exact same as my sword_ , she thought, her eyes turning downwards to glance at her own sword. _There are two of them here in the cave?_

Hesitantly, she handed the identical blue-sheathed sword to Kili, watching as he uncovered the curved, silver shortsword. The edge made a whooshing noise as he sliced it through the air, the faintest of smiles gracing his lips. His eyes flicked to the twin sword that lay sheathed at her side, and his grin broadened.

"I think I've found the one," he said, looking back up at her. When his eyes met hers, she felt something inside her clench.

"Good," she coughed, averting her eyes yet again. _It's just a sword_ , she told herself.

* * *

 **Haha, Kili and Jasmine being such adorable twinsies with their new swords!**

 **I made the troll cave in my fic a bit more abundant and glamourous than the one in the movies (and probably the books), but I thought it just fit better.**

 **Thank you so much for reading! Please favorite, follow and review!**


	8. Chapter 8: Doubt

The company had been trudging through the open plains and dense forests of Ruhdaur for nearly two days now, setting up camp for a few hours during the night. Even Jasmine, who was used to staying up all night on her various missions back in Bree, was beginning to grow drowsy from the seemingly endless trek.

"Can we rest?" Elle whined, slowly jogging after the company. Dwarves, Jasmine knew, were not natural long-distance runners, and, without any endurance training, could be absolutely burdensome during long journeys. For the entirety of the last few days, Elle had been complaining about the labor required to keep up with the company, and, while her constant whining had grown irritating, Jasmine couldn't help but agree with her now.

"Thorin," Gandalf wheezed, stumbling along a few paces in front of Elle. "We should really set up camp again. We'll be much faster once we have-"

"No," Thorin snapped, continuing on. "We must cross through this land as quickly as possible. I do not wish to have any more encounters with those trolls."

"Forget the trolls," Ori coughed. "My feet are killing me."

"Aye," his brother Dori agreed. "We need to rest, Thorin."

Ignoring his companions, Thorin just kept walking,

Reluctantly, the rest of the company backed down, letting their stubborn, determined leader have his way.

After a few minutes of wheezing, panting and muttered complaints, a great howl echoed across the plains.

"Did you hear that?" Thorin asked ominously, even though Jasmine could tell he already knew that everyone had.

"It sounds like a wolf," Balin said, as a second howl rang through the barren lands.

"Not a wolf," Gandalf corrected, his face grim. "A warg. And more than one of them, judging by that last howl," he added, gripping his staff a little tighter.

"What do we do?" Oin asked, looking frantically between Gandalf and the horizon, as if he expected a pack of rabid wolf-like creatures to come hurdling towards them at any minute.

Which did in fact happen the very next second.

"Run!" Gandalf yelled, new strength fueling his and the rest of the company's legs to sprint further down the plains. A blurred mass of brown fur could be seen approaching them from their right, a sea of mountainous rocks and plateaus to their left. Jasmine just hoped that what little she had heard of wargs' incredible speed was not true-for if it was, they were utterly doomed.

"They're getting closer!" Bombur whimpered, proving Jasmine to be (unfortunately) correct. The wargs were uncannily quick, and they were gaining on them quickly. When she offered the wargs a wary glance over her shoulder, she saw just how ferocious they looked up close. Horrid, yellow fangs jutted out from great jaws, while matted, bloodied fur covered the rest of their bodies. Atop each warg was an Orc, clad in torn cloth and wielding red-stained jagged blades.

"Get behind that rock!" Gandalf shouted, directing the frightened company towards a tall rock slightly to their left.

Jasmine could see the flaws in the old man's plan-if they were fast enough, yes, they would be able to take cover behind the great rock. The wargs were not close enough to them to be able to see them retreat behind the rock, so if they were able to reach if, they would be safe. But, with their weariness, the incredible speed of the wargs, and the inclusive, open layout of the plains, the likelihood of that happening was slim.

Nevertheless, her adrenaline propelled her forward, allowing her legs to pound against the rocky ground so fast that she was quite sure she would lose her balance and trip at any moment.

The company reached the rock in record time, throwing themselves against the back of it so that they were hidden from view of the wargs for the time being.

"We made it," Bombur said, relieved. He was bent over, panting from the excursion of the sprint.

"We cannot linger here," Gandalf said, also trying to regain his breath. "The wargs will be upon us soon. We must make for Rivendell," he said, giving an astonished Thorin a significant look.

 _Rivendell?_ Jasmine felt her stomach lurch. They couldn't go to Rivendell. Lord Elrond had known her parents and would likely remember her, meaning that her cover would be blown. For that was why she always wore her dark, shadowed hood-to hide the trait that made her truly recognizable as an elf. Her pointed ears. And if the company ever found out about who she was, if she ever took the hood off, if she ever were to encounter another elf who had known her parents before they died, she would be banished by the company.

"We can't go to Rivendell," Jasmine said hoarsely.

"For once I agree with the lass," Dwalin said gruffly. "I'm not going to plead for the mercy and aid of the elves."

"Aye," Thorin agreed, his voice dripping with hatred. "We shall find another way to survive that doesn't involve enlisting the help of that murderous, traitorous race."

Jasmine flinched ever so slightly, but quickly regained her composure.

The howls of the wargs were growing closer, and Jasmine could hear the sounds of their paws pounding against the Earth just beyond their hiding place. It wouldn't be long, she knew, before they were found.

"We need to leave here," Gandalf said more urgently. "If you want to make it out of this mess alive, I suggest you follow me without protest," he breathed. "And don't ask questions."

At that moment, a great growling noise from above them caused them all to flinch, and, looking up, the company found themselves looking into the beady, hungry eyes of a warg and it's rider.

Kili whipped out his bow, quickly nocking an arrow and letting it fly at the warg, the point piercing the beast's neck. With a howl, the warg fell to the ground beside them, it's rider tumbling off of it with a groan.

Sensing the opportunity, Jasmine ran forwards and plunged her new shortsword deep into the Orc's chest, the wretched creature's twitching arms slowly stilling as she removed the blade.

Turning back around, she caught Kili's eye, who promptly gave her a short wink. "Great teamwork," he mouthed to her as Jasmine felt her eyes instinctively roll.

"Before more of them come, we must go," Gandalf said again. "Follow me."

The company didn't need to be told twice. After the close encounter with the warg and it's rider, none of them were too eager to have another one.

As they left the cover of the rock, Jasmine shot a look to their right where the warg pack had first originated. The large pack was much, much closer now, but there were a few stragglers that were a bit farther up ahead. They, she imagined, would find them much faster than the rest of the pack would. _They must be scouts_ , she thought, tearing her eyes away from the riders.

They were, she understood, heading for a small cave not far ahead. It seemed as though even Bombur could fit through it's opening, but it would be far too small for any warg to fit through. _If only we can make it that far without being attacked_ , she realized.

"Faster!" Gandalf urged, seeming to sense the gravity of the situation. "We must make it to that cave!"

Another howl echoed across the plains behind them. _We've been spotted_ , Jasmine thought, willing herself to run faster. The sound of the other warg as she and Kili had killed it must have alerted the pack to their whereabouts. _What are wargs even doing in these parts?_

The sounds of the wargs' paws on the rocky earth grew closer together, leading her to believe that they had sped up as well. _Damnit_.

They were only about a quarter mile from the cave now, but the wargs were gaining on them, and Jasmine knew that if they did manage to escape through the caves, it would be a narrow escape indeed.

"We're almost there," Gandalf panted, leading them further towards the cave. "Make haste!"

When they finally reached the cave, Gandalf stopped by the opening, shepherding Bofur, Bombur and Bifur in first. They stumbled in, muffled screams and shouts echoing in their wake. _There must be some sort of drop or fall_ , Jasmine gulped.

"You next," Gandalf gestured to Elle and Balin, who jumped into the cave. Elle's shrieks filtered back out through the cave opening. The opening was only large enough, she realized, for one person to slowly squeeze their way through, and it take a long time-too long of a time, she realized-for all of them to get past.

"Quickly, now!" Gandalf shouted, making way for another cluster of dwarves to run into the cave, their shouts following in close pursuit.

Jasmine was beginning to doubt that whatever was going on in that cave was any better than fending for their lives out on these plains.

There was now only Jasmine, Kili, Fili, Thorin and Dwalin left out on the plains, with Gandalf herding the last of the other dwarves into the cave. The wargs were nearly upon them now, although Kili had taken out several with his bow.

"Kili, Fili, Jasmine," Thorin ordered. "Get inside." He brandished his own sword at the oncoming wargs. "We'll try to hold them off for awhile," he said, as Dwalin pulled out his own axe.

As much as she wanted to stay and fight, Jasmine was equally eager to get away from the snarling, bloodied wargs, and quickly sprinted to the cave opening, with Fili and Kili by her side. Fili squeezed through the opening first, followed by Kili, and her last.

The second Jasmine stepped through the opening, she found that there was no ground beneath her feet. Her heart skipped a beat in surprise, and then she felt herself falling, and saw only pitch-black darkness around her. The fall only lasted for a few seconds, and when she landed, she found that it had not hurt much at all.

"Ow," a voice from beneath her groaned. "Did you have to fall on top of me?"

 _So that's why it didn't hurt_ , Jasmine thought to herself, quickly getting off of what she assumed could only be Kili.

"Sorry," she muttered, instinctively helping the dwarf to his feet. _Wait. Why am I helping him?_

"It's alright," Kili said, and even in the nearly impenetrable darkness, she could sense his signature smirk. "You're welcome to fall on me anytime."

"Oh, God," Jasmine moaned, throwing him a punch to the arm. "You're really too full of yourself." _Maybe I'll be doing the world a favor by killing him_ , she thought drily.

Above them came the sounds of Gandalf, Thorin and Dwalin forcing themselves through the cave opening and their sounds of surprise as they fell through the hole that stood right in front of the entrance.

Once they had all made it safely to the ground, Gandalf lit his staff so that the chamber around them was illuminated by a dim, wavering light. It had rock walls and several passages breaking off from the main room that they were in.

"Why were there wargs out there, Gandalf?" Elle piped up. "I've never heard of wargs venturing so far from the eastern lands."

"I do not know what brought those creatures here," Gandalf said grimly. "But it seems as though they were not here by accident."

 _What the hell is that supposed to mean?_ Jasmine looked back up at the small circle of light above them that acted as the entrance from the plains and the cave opening down to their cave chamber. The wargs must still be out there, searching for a way to fit their pack through the entrance to the cave.

"But we must make haste," Gandalf said, for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning.

"Where are we going?" Bofur asked.

"Rivendell," Gandalf said plainly, charging ahead down one of the passageways without waiting for confirmation from any of the dwarves. "I've had enough of your silly prejudices and grudges. We need food and rest, and the Last Homely House is nearest to us."

With only a few grumblings from the dwarves, the company followed Gandalf, seeming to have given up on any other means of finding rest. But Jasmine found her stomach knotting as she thought about what new dangers might await her in Rivendell. Lord Elrond. Meeting other elves.

She was pretty sure she would rather take on the ravenous wolf pack waiting for them outside.

* * *

Elle breathed a sigh of wonder when she caught her first glimpse of Rivendell.

The Last Homely House was a beautiful, pristine city, with calming waterfalls and gorgeous architecture. Arching bridges and artfully crafted domes decorated the city and it's glittering waterways, and Elle had to stop in mid-step (along with many other members of the company) just to take it all in.

Some, like Thorin, gruffly bore on ahead, but Elle found herself utterly transfixed by the beauty of the city. She had heard of the rivalry between elves and dwarves, but, having not grown up in a traditional Dwarven household herself, she didn't quite understand the grudges held against the elves, and held very few herself.

The company crossed the front bridge, which led to the gates of the city. A troop of elves met them at the gates, a tall, brown-haired, regal-looking figure at the front.

"Welcome to Rivendell," he said, his voice sounding somehow old and young at the same time.

"Lord Elrond," Gandalf said in greeting, bowing slightly to the Elvish man.

"Mithrandir," the man-Elrond-said, a smile gracing his thin lips. He scanned the company, his eyes lingering on Jasmine, an expression of confusion and curiosity crossing his lined face.

"We come asking for food and rest," Gandalf said, and Elrond looked back towards the wizard. "For we are weary from our travels."

" _Nartho i noer, toltho i viruvor. Boe i annam vann a nethail vin_ ," Elrond said, turning back to look at the elves behind him.

"What is he saying?" Gloin barked. "Does he offer us insult?"

"No, Master Gloin," Gandalf laughed, looking at Elrond, who was also smiling. "He is offering you food."

"Oh," the ginger-haired dwarf said gruffly. "Well, in that case, we accept."

* * *

The elves led Jasmine and Elle through the halls and gates and paths of Rivendell, all the while, Jasmine finding herself utterly uncomfortable. She remembered visiting Rivendell as a child with her parents, and being back here was bringing back a whole wave of unwanted memories.

 _I just hope we'll get out of here soon_ , Jasmine thought to herself.

The two of them had separated from the company, supposedly being led by their Elven guides to the women's quarters while the rest of the dwarves and Gandalf would be led to the men's. Jasmine, despite the aching pain that came with seeing Rivendell again, was relieved that they would finally be able to rest and eat again.

"Here is your room," their two Elven guides said in unison once they had reached a small structure.

" _Room_?" Elle repeated. "As in, we're sharing?"

"Yes," one of the elves said, obviously confused.

Elle opened her mouth to say something, but, deciding otherwise, stepped into the room, Jasmine following reluctantly in her wake. They would be sharing a bedroom? She doubted that they'd both make it out of there alive.

The room was spacious, and, judging by it's size, seemed to take up the entirety of the structure they had just seen. There were two large beds on either side of the room, the areas around them fully equipped with lightly colored pine furniture. Jasmine heard the guides enter the room behind them.

"Lord Elrond has arranged for an official dinner to be held in your honor," one of the elves said. "You'll find that the proper attire has already been placed in your closets," she added.

"There's fresh bathwater waiting in the tub over there," the other guide continued, gesturing to a wooden tub in the corner of the room, sheltered by a movable screen.

"We'll leave you to get ready," the guides said, watching as Jasmine and Elle took in the room. "Please be in the Great Hall within the hour."

They left, closing the door with a soft _click_ behind them, leaving Jasmine and Elle alone in their new quarters.

* * *

"I'm not wearing that," Jasmine said firmly, for what had to be the tenth time.

"Oh, Jasmine, don't be ridiculous," Elle sighed. She was holding out one of the dresses that their Elven guides had left for them to wear to the dinner-a light blue floor-length gown with a daring neckline and a voluptuous, ruffled skirt.

"What's wrong with this one?" Jasmine asked, holding out the modest, peach-colored one she had selected herself. She had never been one to know (or care) much about fashion, and was confused as to why she even had to wear a dress in the first place.

"It's too… _nothing_ ," Elle said, scrunching up her nose.

"Why do you care?" Jasmine groaned.

"Because Thíngwen and Gelluinith would be so terribly disappointed in me if I let you go to the dinner wearing _that_."

"Who are Thíngwen and Gelluinith?" Jasmine asked with a snort.

"Those two elves we met earlier," Elle said, as if it were obvious.

"You know their names?" Jasmine asked, stunned. "How?"

"I asked them. Duh," Elle smirked. "You were probably too busy sulking to pay much attention, though."

Rolling her eyes again, Jasmine settled back into the pillows she had propped up on her bed's headboard.

"You're wearing this dress by the way," Elle said, sounding more like a stern mother than an all-knowing maniac.

"No, I'm not," Jasmine laughed. "It's ridiculous."

" _You're_ ridiculous," Elle retorted, throwing the dress at Jasmine, who caught it out of instinct. "And you're wearing it. Or else I'll tell the company that you're a _you-know-what_."

Gaping at her, Jasmine said, "The deal was that if I didn't tell, you wouldn't either."

"You should have known better than to make a promise with me, Jasmine," Elle said sweetly, giving her annoying, tinkling laugh. "I _am_ the Sage after all."

"So you're going to keep threatening me into doing what you want?" Jasmine asked, her voice taking on a dangerous edge.

"Oh please, Jasmine," Elle sighed, waving Jasmine off with a swish of her hand. "It's just a dress."

Growling, Jasmine snatched up the dress and stormed behind the folding screen at the corner of the room. She knew Elle wouldn't give up easily, and it would be easier for her to just give up sooner rather than later. With a sigh, she peeled off the nightdress that she had thrown on after her bath about a half an hour earlier, and slid, tugged and grunted her way into the garment.

When she had put it on, she turned to look in the mirror behind her and nearly screamed. With her signature black cloak stripped away and replaced by this odd, blue dress, she could hardly recognize herself. Having never been one to ogle at herself in the mirror, she never had never truly known what she looked like (or rather, she had, but not very well), and having her face and body so utterly exposed made her feel like she was looking at a stranger.

The dress, Jasmine reluctantly admitted to herself, was quite pretty. The ruffled skirt gave her unshapely body some curvature, and she found that the neckline of the dress wasn't nearly as daring as she had originally thought, making her feel much more comfortable in the outfit than she had anticipated. _I look pretty alright_ , she thought. _Not drop-dead gorgeous, but nice._

"Did you put it on?" Elle called from the other side of the screen.

Stepping out from behind the screen, Jasmine watched as Elle's eyes widened. "Jasmine," the dwarf said, a smile spreading across her face. "I truly do hate you, and I hope that you know that," she began, giving Jasmine a pointed look. "But, I have to admit, you look good."

Jasmine rolled her eyes. "You're the worst at giving compliments," she groaned.

"Like you're one to talk," Elle retorted. Circling Jasmine, she added, "We need to do something with your hair, though."

Rolling her eyes, Jasmine gave another groan. "Honestly, Elle, why are you even helping me?" she muttered. "There's nothing in it for you."

"I enjoy helping disadvantaged teenagers such as yourself," Elle replied sweetly, pulling Jasmine over to the vanity. Picking up a strand of Jasmine's still-damp hair, Elle whispered, "Besides, we need to disguise your… ears."

"I forgot about that," Jasmine flinched. Without her hood, there was nothing to disguise her pointed Elven ears that would surely blow her cover if they were seen.

"Don't worry," Elle laughed, fingering another strand of Jasmine's hair. "As much as I want you to get caught by the dwarves, it's been fun having an opponent to play against," she giggled. "Without you, Jasmine, this would all be too easy." She pulled and braided Jasmine's hair into some sort of elaborate updo, with pieces pinned securely down to hide Jasmine's ears.

"Thank you," Jasmine said slowly, running her hands over her hair when Elle was finished. "I…"

"Just think of it as a favor," Elle said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "From one thief to another," she said with a small smile. They made eye contact in the mirror, Elle's huge green ones meeting Jasmine's dark brown. They were meant to be nemeses, she knew, to destroy the other. But in that moment, Jasmine knew that neither one of them could imagine doing such a thing.

* * *

"I feel like we've been this way before," Kili said, sighing as they passed a series of columns that seemed identical to one they had seen mere moments earlier.

"Everything looks the same in this blasted place," Thorin muttered. "Leave it up to the elves to build something this confusing."

"I don't think we've been this way-" Kili began, before stopping dead in his tracks. Thorin saw his nephew's eyes widen as he took in the pair of women, one short and the other tall, make their way towards them. The shorter one Thorin recognized immediately as Elle, only… she looked different. A long red ball gown highlighted her shapely figure, an intricate set of braids and curls piled atop her head seeming to give her already glowing face a surrounding halo.

 _Why am I thinking like this?_ Thorin thought furiously to himself, shaking the wonderment from his mind. "Elle. Jasmine," he said at last, once their two burglars had reached them. He was nearly as surprised upon realizing that the other woman was in fact Jasmine, for, without her hood, she was utterly unrecognizable.

"Thorin!" Elle cried joyfully, in that confident, yet childlike way that she had. As her grin broadened, Thorin felt his own brow furrowing. _Why does this woman have such an effect on me?_ "We were looking for you!"

"You were?" Thorin choked out, hating how flustered he sounded.

"Jasmine and I were just talking about how confusing this Elvish architecture is," Elle said, with a quick laugh. _We were just talking about that too_ , Thorin thought, amused. "We can't seem to find our way to the dining hall."

"We weren't talking about that," Jasmine interjected, confused. When Elle gave her a quick, but still noticeable kick, the taller woman suppressed an eye roll, but was quiet.

* * *

Kili looked at the woman in front of him, gaping. _Jasmine?_ Without her hood, he hadn't recognized the woman in front of him as the secluded thief he had grown to know until he had heard her recognizably naive, sarcastic voice.

He had never seen her face, since it had been concealed by her hood for the entirety of their journey so far. Kili tried to take her appearance, but found himself utterly overwhelmed. Her chocolate-colored eyes were rimmed by unimaginably dark eyelashes, her lips turned up at one corner in a smirk. Her dark brown hair was pulled up in a knot on the top of her head, with curled pieces hanging down to frame her face.

Jasmine, who had previously been regarding Thorin, turned to look at him then, and he immediately felt himself flinch. When her huge eyes met his, it felt as though she was staring through his very soul, seeing his fears, his dreams. Every time Kili had spoken to her, it had always felt like speaking to a shadow, someone who he couldn't see or read. But now, it felt like he was seeing the _real_ Jasmine, the one who didn't hide in the darkness.

She held his gaze, a slight blush rising in her pale cheeks, her eyes widening with every passing second. Not wanting to be the one to look away, hardly daring to look away, Kili looked back at her, his heart pounding faster and faster.

Next to them, Thorin and Elle seemed to be speaking about something, with Thorin nodding gruffly as Elle babbled on animatedly. Out of the corner of his eye, Kili saw them begin walking ahead of them, leaving Kili and Jasmine alone in the courtyard.

They stood staring at each other for a moment, neither one of them wanting to be the one to break the silence.

"Do you want to start walking?" Kili asked, his voice strained and thin. He coughed to clear his voice.

Jasmine nodded quickly and, just as quickly, turned to begin following Elle and Thorin. But as she did so, her foot caught on the long fabric of her dress, causing her to stumble over one of the flagstones on the ground. Kili quickly caught her hand before she fell.

"Thanks," she muttered, steadying herself. "It was Elle's idea to make me wear this stupid dress," she said with an uneasy laugh, her eyes drifting down to the ground.

"You look nice," Kili said, before he could stop himself.

Jasmine turned to look at him, his eyes scanning her face again. He could see some sort of conflict on her face, something that made her brows furrow ever so slightly. With a sharp intake of breath, she tore her hand out of his grasp and, pulling up her skirts so as not to fall again, hurried forward after Thorin and Elle.

Kili ran to catch up with her, falling into step beside her. He looked over at her, and found that she was looking the other way, avoiding his gaze.

"My uncle seems smitten by Elle," he observed, looking up ahead to where the two dwarves were talking.

Jasmine snorted. "You can say that again," she said, watching the couple in front of them as well.

"There seems to be something about her that makes me uneasy," Kili began, squinting at Elle's back. "I feel like her affection for my uncle isn't genuine, if that makes any sense."

Next to him, Jasmine stiffened. After a moment, she said, "How can you be sure that any affection is genuine affection?" she asked softly.

Kili hesitated. "I don't know," he said at last.

* * *

 **Wow, that was a really long chapter. I technically could have broken it up into 2 chapters, I guess, but was too lazy to. :P Clearing up a few things:**

 **1\. In this part:** _"'We weren't talking about that,' Jasmine interjected, confused. When Elle gave her a quick, but still noticeable kick, the taller woman suppressed an eye roll, but was quiet."_ **Jasmine is confused because she and Elle truly hadn't been talking about that, but Elle was just eager to try and relate to Thorin that she claimed that they had been talking about the same topic he and Kili and been conversing about.**

 **2\. Jasmine is a Rivendell elf (as were her parents) and she spent most of her early childhood growing up there (which is why she has such strong memories of the place and was so hesitant to go there). When her parents died (killed by dwarves-more on that later in the story), she fled to Bree, not wanting to be reminded of their life together in Rivendell. She knew Lord Elrond, which is also why she was wary of returning, out of fear that he would recognize her (also, more on that in the next chapter... hehe).**

 **Thanks so much for reading! Please favorite, follow and _review_! Reviews truly do encourage me to keep writing, and I read and appreciate each one of them!**


	9. Chapter 9: Poison

Jasmine and Kili entered the dining hall a few moments after Elle and Thorin did. The hall was composed of beautiful, intricate architecture, and there were wooden high-backed chairs and tables that decorated the hall's pristine white floor. Jasmine remembered eating dinner here in this very hall when she was a little girl, and had to gulp down the memories before she broke down again.

At the center of the room, she could see that the company of dwarves, excluding Thorin and Gandalf, were sitting at the largest table, all looking quite different with their newly washed faces and silken suits.

At the "high table" at the far end of the room, there sat Lord Elrond, looking as regal and commanding as ever in his golden wreath and flowing robes. His eye caught her's when she and Kili entered the room, his face displaying the same concern and confusion that he had shown when they had first met at the gates of Rivendell. Gandalf and a rather reluctant Thorin sat beside him.

Elle, Jasmine could see, was sitting between Dwalin and Fili, laughing and, by the looks of it, making the other two of them chuckle as well.

"Oi!" Fili waved his brother over, his eyes widening slightly when he saw Jasmine at his side. "Jasmine? Is that you?"

At this comment, any noise in the hall ceased immediately, and all eyes turned to Jasmine, who promptly flushed bright scarlet. _Where is that Goddamn hood when I need it?_

Next to Gandalf and Thorin, Jasmine saw Elrond flinch, hearing her name likely making him remember who she was. She prayed that he wouldn't reveal her hidden identity in front of all these elf-hating dwarves.

"Lass… why…" Balin chortled, snapping her out of her frightened thoughts. "You cleaned up quite well."

"If I were a few decades younger…" Bifur said wistfully, gazing at her with misty eyes.

"Eww, gross," Jasmine gagged before she could stop herself, much to the amusement of the dwarves-and even Bifur.

"Come, sit next to us," Fili waved Kili and Jasmine over to the two empty chairs besides him.

The table in front of them was piled high with baskets of green vegetables and light bread. Besides that, there was hardly anything but small glasses of Elvish wine.

"This establishment is a joke," Dwalin grumbled angrily (and rather loudly), twirling a leaf-that was supposedly edible-in his hand. "Light wine and bread. And these ridiculous vegetables. Where's the _meat_?"

"Aye," Fili moaned, throwing the bread he had been nibbling on back onto his plate. "I'd do anything for some good mead right now."

* * *

"The dwarves don't seem pleased with our hospitality," Lord Elrond said, hopefully not too bitterly, to Gandalf.

"Who would be?" Thorin volunteered, just as harshly.

"There are some, Thorin Oakenshield," Lord Elrond began, narrowing his eyes at the egotistical dwarf prince, "Who would be honored to stay in the Last Homely House, and would view it as a great pleasure."

"And who would those people be?" Thorin spat. "More elf-scum?"

"Thorin!" Gandalf thundered, turning a few heads from the main dwarf table a few paces away. "You will respect your host!"

"I am not a child, Gandalf," Thorin huffed.

"Well, you are acting like one!" Gandalf reprimanded, causing the dwarf to emit a low growl.

"What might be your business here?" Elrond asked, trying to lead the conversation onwards in a somewhat diplomatic manner. As much as the dwarves often angered him, he was determined not to lose his cool.

"It is none of your concern," Thorin said brusquely in response. But after a warning look from Gandalf, he added, "We are journeying to the Lonely Mountain," in somewhat of an undertone.

 _Erebor? They would not dare…_

"You wish to reclaim the mountain?" Elrond asked.

"Yes," Gandalf supplied, before Thorin, whose face was turning slightly purple, could say anything else.

"There are some who would not deem it wise," Elrond said warily. "The dragon Smaug has not been seen for fifty years-"

"He is dead," Thorin growled hoarsely. "The beast rotted away in his halls of stolen gold long ago."

"I would not be so sure," Elrond said, more to himself than to the angry dwarf and perplexed wizard in front of him. After a long silence, he said, "An interesting choice of company, Gandalf. The dwarrowdam and the el-I mean, woman?"

At this, Elrond looked over at the main table, his eyes meeting those of Jasmine, as the company had called her, and who he seemed to remember for some odd reason. _She is an elf, if I am not mistaken_ , he thought to himself. _When did I know her?_ Why _do I recognize her?_

And then it came to him. All in a flash of memories.

He remembered the sound of a little girl laughing, of his own panting as he chased playfully after her. _We're playing hide-and-go-seek_ , he realized, as the child in his memories turned back to look at him. A great smile played across the face of a joyful little girl, her brown eyes twinkling with more light than the starry sky itself. Her mane of dark hair was pulled back in a braid, which, he remembered, her mother had spent a good twenty minutes forcing her into.

When he looked at the face of the woman-Jasmine-sitting at the other table, he saw that same girl, the one who looked for pretty mushrooms by the ponds and who drove her parents crazy with her constant chatter, only with the light he remembered being etched into her face and features now completely extinguished.

The woman looked back at him now, her eyes wide with fear, a flurry of vicious scars decorating her bare arms, and her Elven ears disguised cleverly beneath secure braids. _She's changed_ , Elrond knew, his eyes misting slightly. _Perhaps it's all been for the best. Maybe she's better now_.

But when he looked at her pained, anguished face, he knew that it all hadn't been for the best. She wasn't better now. _I should have been there for you, my dear Muindes. I should have been there._

* * *

"Elrond kept staring at you throughout the dinner," Elle remarked, once they had settled back into their private quarters. Elle was seated on the ground, brushing her long hair, while Jasmine was lying on top of her bed, still clothed in her dinner attire. She had been too tired-to distracted-to take it off yet.

Jasmine chose not to respond to Elle's comment. She had noticed the elf lord's stares throughout their meal as well, but didn't want to reveal anything to Elle. Information-even the slightest of tells or the most delicate of falters-was deadly in the hands of the Sage.

"Fine," Elle huffed. "Keep your secrets. I know you know what's going on, though."

And it was true. Jasmine knew what was going on. But thinking about Lord Elrond conjured up too many painful memories, which was why she continued staring up at the ceiling, trying to silence the warring emotions inside her.

"We're only about a week into our quest, Jasmine," Elle snorted. "And already you've been found out by Lord Elrond. You won't last another day at the rate your cover is being blown."

"And you think _your_ disguise is clever?" Jasmine snapped, sitting bolt upright and shooting a glare at the dwarf.

"What? I-" Elle stammered, obviously taken aback. "Of course I do!" At Jasmine's raised eyebrow, she added crossly, "It's better than yours!"

"Kili's already suspicious of you," Jasmine told her, too angry and annoyed and full of unwanted emotions to care that she was likely relaying valuable information to the untrustworthy Sage.

"Kili?" Elle smirked. "Your lover? I imagine he'd tell you anything you wanted to hear if it meant he-"

"You want to talk about love?" Jasmine interjected hotly. "I don't know how you plan to seduce Thorin, but I can tell you that you've got an awfully twisted mind if you think it's alright to go marrying someone and then assassinating them and their family right after!"

"Like you're one to talk!" Elle retorted, bristling. "You're about to kill off the entire Durin line too-and just for your own silly revenge!"

"Silly revenge?" Jasmine repeated, her eyes flaming.

But before either of them could go on any longer, Gelluinith, one of their Elven guides from earlier, popped her head into their room. "Is everything alright in here?" she asked worriedly. "I head yelling."

"Everything's fine," Elle said sweetly, shooting Jasmine an angry glance out of the corner of her eye.

Gelluinith nodded, and then turned to Jasmine. "Lord Elrond would like to see you in his study," she said. "I have been assigned to escort you there."

With a reluctant couple of steps, Jasmine followed the elf out their door and into the cool night, leaving Elle alone in their bedroom.

* * *

Elle watched Jasmine go, her rapidly beating heart stilling as she heard the door click shut.

Putting down the hairbrush, Elle walked slowly over to her bed and opened her knapsack, which hung from one of the bedposts. Rummaging inside for a few seconds, she quickly found the bottle of clear liquid in the most secluded inside pocket of the pack.

It was poison. Three doses of it. One for each member of the Durin line.

Her plan had always been to marry into the throne, and then to stage a tragic accident that killed off the Durin line, leaving her as the only one capable of ruling Erebor. She would be Queen, alongside no other.

She had seemed so confident in her plan before she'd set out on this quest, and yet, the longer she spent with the company, the more wary she grew.

And fighting with Jasmine... well, it had gotten her thinking.

 _Could I really kill three people?_ She had never killed anyone before-and the very thought of being the one to end someone's life made her inside clench and her palms sweat. She almost dropped the bottle of poison, but quickly caught herself before she let it shatter on the ground beneath her.

Elle had grown quite fond of Fili, and, even though he might doubt her, as Jasmine had told her, Kili seemed to like her as well. She viewed them as her nephews now, just as Thorin viewed them.

Thorin.

Could she really kill him?

She thought back to all the times that those piercing blue eyes had softened when they reached her own. When he had almost reached out to touch her but quickly stopped himself out of nervousness. When he had given her his cloak to keep warm during an especially frigid night.

Elle hadn't known Thorin for long, but she knew enough about him to know that he didn't trust people easily. His trust was a sacred thing, and those who earned it should have known well not to throw it away.

 _And yet I want to throw it away_ , Elle thought to herself, looking between the bottle of poison and her own reflection in the mirror above her bed. She imagined how his face would look if he ever learned of her schemes to kill him and his dear nephews. She imagined how he would scream at her, threaten her, or worse, never speak to her again. She imagined how Fili and Kili would look at her with an air of new disgust and disdain, recoiling from her once warm and loving touch.

Could she bear to see that happen?

* * *

 **Looks like Elrond and Jasmine are having a little sentimental, emotional moment and Elle is second-guessing her intentions! Do you think either of them will actually go through (or try to go through) with any of their plans?**

 **Also, "Muindes" is Jasmine's Elvish name, for those of you who were wondering. You'll learn more about that in the next chapter. :)**

 **Please favorite, follow and review! I love reading reviews, and each and every one of them is so special to me.**


	10. Chapter 10: An Uncovered Past

**Yes, the story got a name change! I changed it from "Smoke Screen," a thievery/escape artist term to "Deadly Schemes," because I felt it reflected the story a bit better, and where the plot and characters were headed.**

 **Anyways, please enjoy this new (somewhat short) chapter!**

* * *

Jasmine was led by the elf guard-Gelluinith-through the deserted paths of Rivendell, the moon rising steadily in the young night sky above them. All the while, Jasmine felt her heart pounding, utterly unsure of what Lord Elrond might want to talk with her about.

They soon reached a particularly extravagant lodging, with a large porch out front. Jasmine saw Elrond, clad in the same silken robes from dinner, seated on a high-backed chair, waiting for them. He rose when he saw them, his face as grim as it had been earlier.

"Ah. Jasmine," he said, by a means of greeting. "I am pleased that you have come." He gave Gelluinith a look, signaling for her to leave. The elf gave a little curtsey and strode away.

Only when Gelluinith's shadow disappeared amongst the pillars bordering the path they had just traveled did Elrond beckon to Jasmine to follow him into his house. "We have things we must discuss," he said, his voice sounding tired and strained.

 _This isn't weird at all_ , Jasmine thought sarcastically, stepping cautiously onto the porch and even more cautiously taking another step to enter his house. Her hands flew to the daggers she had snuck into the folds of her dress.

Elrond's house, although dim, was still cheery, and Jasmine felt, despite the strange circumstances, rather safe in it. There were plush, pastel-colored furniture pieces decorating the space, as there were in her and Elle's own bedroom.

Elrond paused to look at her, his wise eyes meeting her defiant ones.

"Why am I here?" she asked sharply, growing uncomfortable under his stare. _I should have brought my hood_ , she thought bitterly, instinctively backing slightly into the shadows that one of Elrond's taller cabinets cast over the floor.

Elrond flinched slightly, but quickly regained his composure. "Right," he said. "I forgot that you would have questions." He gave her a small smile. "As do I."

"What?" Jasmine snorted. " _You_ have questions? Who was just dragged into a stranger's house in the middle of the night? I'm pretty sure it was me, not you."

"Why did you join this quest?" Elrond asked her, ignoring her remark.

"Excuse me?" Jasmine said, startled, even though she had heard his question perfectly fine.

"You hate dwarves, I would imagine," Elrond said coolly. "Why would you choose to join a company full of them?"

"I-I-I…" Jasmine stammered, backing further into the shadow of the cabinet. "That's none of your business," she gulped after a moment.

Elrond stiffened again. "Do you not trust me as you once did, Muindes?" he asked softly, his voice laced with hurt and sentiment.

"What did you just call me?" Jasmine gasped hoarsely. _Muindes…? Muindes, Muindes, Muindes… why does that name sound so familiar?_

"I called you by your name," Elrond said gently, watching, even through the veil of the shadows that she had concealed herself in as her eyes widened. "It was the name your mother gave you when you were only a few moments old. It means " _beloved young woman_ " in Elvish."

 _My name. My mother._ Jasmine nearly choked.

"I was like an uncle to you when you were growing up," Elrond said, his eyes misting slightly. "For I was like a brother to your father. We were always best friends, and it seemed only natural that when you were born, I would help raise you."

Jasmine felt her own eyes well slightly with tears. _I won't cry. I won't._ But after so many years of pushing these memories away, she found it hard to have them all come rushing back to her at once. Now that she thought about it, she did have memories of Elrond being with her as a child. She remembered playing hide-and-go-seek with him, and tag, and collecting mushrooms by the pond with him by her side, telling her what all of the different fungi were called and how they were used, and her not really listening to what he was saying, because, _Look, Uncle! Look at how pretty this one is! It's purple, can you see?_ She felt a tear roll down her cheek, and she took a step forward out of the shadow of the cabinet.

In the light, she could see that Elrond was crying too. "And then when your parents died, I looked all over for you, hoping that you might have survived the…" his voice caught, "...what happened. But I never found you. And I thought you…" he trailed off, his voice becoming incomprehensible amongst the sobs.

Jasmine remembered the night her parents had died as clearly as though it had happened yesterday. She remembered traveling with a pair of white horses, her father and their luggage on one, and her mother with her arms wrapped around Jasmine seated on the other. They had been heading to Bree, as she recalled, to stay at the Prancing Pony before continuing on. There was a hobbit party in the Shire in a few days, and they wanted to get there early, or that was what Jasmine remembered her mother telling her. She didn't remember who the party was for, or why they were going, but she did remember her mother telling her something about the hobbit being "an old friend of her father's."

Only, when they had been near Bree, a group of dwarves, drunk and filthy, approached them, shouting at them and kicking at their horses' hooves. Jasmine's father had drawn his sword, but the dwarves had all been armed themselves, and it wasn't long before they had driven the horses into such a frenzy, what with all of their yelling and kicking and brandishing of shiny axes, that the animals whinnied and knocked her family off their backs. Jasmine remembered the feeling of crashing to the hard, damp ground, still clutched tightly in her mother's arms. Sickening cheers and screams from the dwarves rang through the woods around her, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father dueling three at once with his blade.

She remembered her mother giving her a fleeting kiss to her forehead, and whispering frantically in her ear, "Go! Get out of here! Get to Bree as fast as you can!"

"I don't want to leave you!" Jasmine had wailed.

" _Nana_ and _Ada_ will try and meet you there," her mother had said then, her eyes creasing with worry. Jasmine should have known then that her mother had been lying. Her mother, her beloved _Nana_ , had known that she and her father wouldn't be able to fend off the dwarves. She had just been trying to give her daughter hope so that she would have the strength to get to safety.

And so Jasmine, crying hysterically, had stumbled blindly through the woods that night, and only when the sun was making its first appearance on the horizon did she accidentally come across the front gates to the village of Bree.

The people there had been nice to her, all of them not wanting to be the one to tell her that no, her parents would never come to meet her, and that yes, she really was all alone here. She had held onto the false hope for a long time, before she finally let go.

* * *

 **Elvish Translations:**

 _ **Muindes:**_ **Muin [beloved/dear] - des [young woman]**

 _ **Nana:**_ **Nana [mom/mommy]**

 _ **Ada:**_ **Ada [dad/daddy]**

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! We finally get to learn a little bit about what happened to Jasmine's parents in this chapter! More explanation is to come, so if the story doesn't totally make sense to you yet, it will soon! If you have any ideas, though, I'd love to hear what your guesses are!**

 **Any favorites, follows and reviews are so appreciated! They encourage me to keep writing! :) And please check out my other stories, _The Daughter of Fire and Greed_ and _The Moon's Dream_ for more hobbit fanfic juiciness. :P**


	11. Chapter 11: A Legacy

Elle wandered through the paths of Rivendell, the moon her only source of light in her blackened surroundings. She knew she shouldn't be out at night, but she was starving. At dinner, she had hardly eaten, the food too light for her taste. So she was looking for the only people that she knew had packed some real food.

The dwarves.

As her stomach emitted another low rumble, Elle saw a bright light up ahead, likely emanating from a bonfire or fireplace. She ran towards the light, hearing the faint babble and chortle of voices and laughter up ahead.

When she reached the bonfire, she found all thirteen dwarves sitting around it, throwing freshly cooked sausages and strips of crispy bacon to one another, cheering as they did so. Obviously, no one had been very satisfied by the dinner earlier.

"Lass! Come join us!" Bofur called, throwing a plate of bacon and potatoes her way with a flick of his wrist. Kili, who was in the line of the flying plate, quickly ducked, and Elle just barely managed to catch the airborne vessel before it shattered on the ground.

"Elle?" Thorin asked, turning to look at her. "What are you doing here?"

But Elle's mouth was already stuffed with potatoes. "Ergh," she mumbled, trying to swallow the food as fast as she could. "Er wash ungree," she said through a mouth full of potatoes.

"What?" Fili laughed.

"I was hungry," Elle repeated, laughing a little too. "Sorry to bother you, it's just that… well, Elvish food is pretty awful and I hardly ate anything at dinner."

"It's no bother, lass!" Bifur guffawed. "You must be freezing! Come sit by the fire!"

Elle eagerly took a seat by the crackling bonfire, hardly realizing that it was opposite Thorin until she looked up and found herself staring into those ice-blue eyes again. She nearly choked.

"Where's Jasmine?" Kili asked her, snapping her out of her trance.

"Oh, she's, umm…" Elle stammered, debating whether or not to tell the truth. She finally decided not to. "She had to stay back. Something about a stomachache." _You owe me one, Jasmine_ , Elle thought to herself. _If they ever found out you were meeting secretly with Lord Elrond, they'd have a fit_.

"Must have been that God awful food at dinner," Dwalin grumbled, popping another sausage into his mouth. "Tasted like poison, it did."

At the mention of poison, Elle stiffened slightly, remembering the bottle of clear poison tucked in her satchel back at the bunkhouse. To distract herself, she quickly downed the mug of ale that Gloin offered her.

"Oi!" Bofur called to Bombur, who was perched on a stool that seemed to be aching under his immense weight. "Catch this!"

Bombur looked up, just as the sausage that Bofur had thrown to him hit him smack in the nose. With a mischievous grin, he hurled a sausage back at Bofur, only he missed, and it ended up hitting Fili instead.

Fili continued the trend, throwing a potato at Kili, who caught it and then chucked it back at his brother. The potato hit Fili in the stomach with a resounding _thump_ , and caused the blonde dwarf to emit a cough of shock.

And so a huge food fight ensued, with the dwarves hurling potatoes and sausages and carrots and pieces of bread at each other, the attacks, although lighthearted, messy and even, in some cases, slightly painful (due to the dwarves' extreme throwing power).

Elle managed to dodge most of the attacks directed at her, but when Fili shot a still-warm potato her way, it broke apart and splattered onto her face. Fili quickly apologized, his eyes widening and he watched her try to hastily wipe off the gunk. He rushed over to her with a napkin, offering it to her by a means of cleaning off the mess. But instead of accepting the offering, she pulled him towards her, securing him in a headlock, and began tickling him. Fili howled in laughter, straining against her grasp.

"This is what you get for throwing a potato in my face!" Elle shrieked, giving a playful cackle.

Kili came over then, and helped restrain his brother, a broad grin on his face. "Get 'im Elle!" he laughed, as all three of them collapsed to the ground, covered in splattered food and trying to tickle the others.

When at last Fili and Kili seemed occupied wrestling and tickling each other, Elle stood up, brushing off her skirts. A smile was still etched onto her lips when she looked up and saw Thorin looking at the three of them, an avuncular grin on his face. His eyes met hers, and, instead of having their usual glare, they shone and twinkled with a youth that Elle hadn't seen in him before.

* * *

"Our business is no concern of elves," Thorin said sharply, tightening his grip around the map. I

"For goodness sake, Thorin, show him the map," Gandalf sighed, exasperated. The wizard had been trying to get Thorin to show the annoyingly calm elf-lord the map of Erebor for nearly three minutes now, yet Thorin had been resisting. They had been called to a sort of council with Lord Elrond a few moments ago, and Thorin and Balin had been able to slink away from the bonfire that the rest of his company had been having to attend.

"It is the legacy of my people; it is mine to protect, as are its secrets," he responded, looking up at Lord Elrond with a menacing glare.

"Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves. Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle-Earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond," Gandalf commanded, his voice like that of a tired parent speaking to their troublesome child.

The eyes of Lord Elrond, Gandalf and Balin all turned to him, as he pondered the wizard's last statement. As much as it pained him to do so, he knew that he would eventually have to turn over the map. Thorin doubted that they would run into another person who was able to read the ancient runes on the map he carried, and he knew that it was essential that the map was translated. Reluctantly, he held out the parchment to Lord Elrond, his hand trembling slightly as he did so.

"Thorin, no," Balin whispered, trying to pull his arm back, the map along with it. But Thorin steadied his hand, resisting the urge to yank the paper back from the elf's outstretched fingers.

Elrond took the map and unfolded the parchment, his brows furrowing slightly as he did so. "Erebor?" he asked. "What is your interest in the mountain?"

Thorin opened his mouth to speak, but Gandalf quickly interrupted what would have been a very insulting retort. "It's mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read Ancient Dwarvish, do you not?" The wizard shot Thorin a significant look.

Elrond took a few steps away from them, tilting and examining the map as he went. " _Cirth Ithil_ ," he said at last.

"Moon runes," Gandalf supplemented. "Of course. An easy thing to miss."

"Well in this case, that is true; moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written," Elrond replied, running his finger over the runes written there.

Thorin felt his heart leap. "Can you read them?" he all but choked out.

Lord Elrond led them out onto a sort of balcony, where the light of the moon in the darkened sky shone bright and clear onto a stone pedestal at the end of the balcony. Thorin watched intently as Elrond placed the map of his homeland onto the pedestal.

"These runes were written on a Midsummer's Eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago. It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield; the same moon shines upon us tonight," Elrond said, looking over at him with the barest of smiles grazing his face. Thorin quickly averted his eyes, looking back at the map.

Blue runes, searingly bright, etched themselves onto the page as the light of the moon hit the page. The parchment shimmered, the mountain of Erebor that was inked onto it's surface seeming to come alive in the light.

Elrond then began to translate the fresh runes as, " _Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole._ "

"Durin's Day," Balin began, his voice catching slightly with the same realization that hit Thorin mere seconds later.

"This is ill news. Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us," he said gravely. When his eyes were drawn back to the map, he found that the drawing of his homeland that had been so clear earlier had now seemingly muddied, the inked lines growing more and more fuzzy.

"We still have time," Gandalf responded. "Time to find the entrance. We have to be standing at exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened."

"So this is your purpose, to enter the mountain," Elrond said, looking between the three of them.

"What of it?" Thorin spat, his gaze hardening as it locked with the elf-lord's.

"There are some who would not deem it wise," Elrond replied.

With a low growl, Thorin snatched the map from the pedestal and, folding it back up, slid it into his pocket.

 _We will reach the mountain_ , he said to himself, the feeling of the parchment still fresh on his fingers.

* * *

 **Ooh, "Aunt Elle" has a nice ring to it, don't you think? :P**

 **Please favorite, follow and review! They encourage me to keep writing and updating. :)**


	12. Chapter 12: The Real Burglar

Elle shot a glance back at Rivendell, her heart falling slightly as she tore her gaze away from the nearly glowing rivers and beautiful bridges, arches and buildings.

 _Maybe I'll come back someday_ , she thought sadly, following the company down the path in front of her. They had snuck away from Rivendell just a few moments before, and, much to her protests, hadn't informed Gandalf of their plan to leave early.

Now that they were wizard-less, Elle found herself far more worried about what they might encounter in the wilderness before them. Although Gandalf hardly ever used magic in front of them, his presence was a comforting, wise one, and Elle missed the old wizard already.

Thorin and Balin, she had noticed, seemed particularly stressed this morning, and had already reprimanded the company several times for "walking too slowly," or "carrying too much."

 _I wonder what's irking them_ , Elle thought to herself, watching the back of Thorin's head as he walked. Even under the weight of his pack, he maintained a tall, regal stature, and commanded the acknowledgment and respect of those around him.

* * *

They rounded a bend, and, much to Elle's surprise, found themselves standing on a rocky ledge carved into the side of a tall mountain. It was dark out, and a torrent of rain and lightning and thunder was bombarding the sky.

"We must find shelter!" Thorin yelled, pulling the hood of his traveling cloak further over his head. "We cannot hope to outlast this storm!"

It had been several hours since the company had left Rivendell earlier that morning, and already Elle was missing the comforts there-the regular meals, the fine clothes and the warm hearth.

At that moment however, a huge crack of thunder rang out through the blackened mountains around them. And out of the corner of their eyes, they all saw one of the mountains beside them _move_.

It stood up-something that Elle had no idea a mountain could even do-and took a step towards them, it's body a mass of jagged black stone. With a grunt that reminded her of the same thunder she had heard mere moments before, it heaved a giant boulder of stone into the air and hurled it at the area of rock above them.

Elle shrieked as the massive rock came hurdling towards them, and instinctively ducked down, covering her head with her hands. Beside her, Bombur and Bofur were doing to the same.

When the boulder hit the mountain above their heads, it shattered, sending bits of debris flying down onto the narrow ledge that they stood upon. But as the debris hit the ledge, it broke pieces of it off, causing several of the dwarves to almost lose their footing.

 _I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die_ , Elle repeated to herself frantically, inching as far away from the edge of the ledge as she could.

"This is no thunderstorm; it's a thunder battle! Look!" Balin pointed to a new stone creature emerging from the side of the mountain they stood upon.

"Well bless me, the legends are true. Giants; stone giants!" Bofur cried, watching with a mixture of awe and fear as the new stone giant ripped a block of stone out of the side of their own mountain.

"Take cover: you'll fall!" Thorin bellowed, as the first giant hurled yet another boulder at the second. Dropping it's newly acquired mound of stone, the second giant staggered backwards, causing the ground beneath them to shake.

But the shaking didn't stop, even when the second giant had righted itself and was no longer staggering. For now, Elle realized, her heart dropping in her chest, the very mountain they stood upon was coming alive. The ledge beneath their feet began to crack, causing a chasm to appear between the two newly separated halves of the old ledge.

"What's happening?" Kili cried, for he was now standing over the chasm, one of his legs planted on each of the quickly separating halves.

Part of the company was now on each of the two sides, and Elle could see all of them shooting each other worried, terrified glances. But no one was more terrified than Fili.

"Kili! Grab my hand! Ki..." Fili yelled, reaching out a hand to help his brother safely onto his side of the ledge. But Kili couldn't reach his brother's hand.

On the opposite side, Elle saw the tall, shadowy shape of Jasmine pull Kili back onto her side of the mountain, allowing him to collapse, heaving and panting, at her feet.

There were now three stone giants-the first, the one who had appeared at the crack of thunder, the second, the one who had been hit by the first's boulder, and the third, whose two legs the newly separated company was now clinging to. Elle clung onto the stone wall behind her in utter terror as the third stone giant began to move, the company moving along with it's legs.

The second stone giant hurled a mighty punch to the third giant's head, causing it to stumble forward. As it did so, the company members that were on the other side of the ledge went stumbling as well, grabbing onto whatever they could to keep their footing.

The first giant then decided to finish off the third, delivering another punch to the giant's back. As the third giant registered the impact, it went crashing into the mountain, the leg that held the other company members crashing into the mountainside.

Elle watched in horror as the other half of the company smashed into the side of the mountain, clapping a hand over her mouth to suppress a scream.

"No! No! Kili!" Thorin cried, running forward. When the giant had crashed, they had been lucky enough to be able to quickly transfer themselves onto the new mountain's ledge, but, Elle could see, the others hadn't been given the same opportunity. They all raced to the site where the others had crashed, bracing themselves for whatever destruction and death they might find there.

But when they reached the area where the others had crashed, they found only a squirming tangle of bodies, among which Elle could spot Kili.

Next to her, she heard Thorin and Fili breath out sighs of relief, and watched as Fili ran over to engulf his brother in an embrace.

"We're all right! We're alive!" Balin coughed, standing up from the wreckage.

A moment of relieved exhales and hugs was cut short when Kili cried, "Where's Jasmine?"

The company looked around frantically for a few seconds before Ori shouted, "There!" They all looked to where he was pointing, their eyes widening when they saw Jasmine hanging from the edge of the cliff, her fingers gripping the ledge, her own eyes huge with manic terror.

* * *

Jasmine dangled there, utterly frightened, the feeling of endless chasm and darkness beneath her wildly kicking feet causing her heart to beat faster than it ever had before.

She had had her fair share of run-in's with death during her time living in Bree as the Wraith, but to be in such a helpless situation that would almost certainly result in her falling to her death was a completely new experience.

And she hated it. Which was unfortunate, because it was likely to be her last.

"Here, grab my hand!" Bofur cried, lunging to the end of the ledge and holding out his hand to her. But his fingers barely grazed the rock a foot above her own.

Raindrops fell against her strained fingers, causing them to slip even further down on her handhold. _Please, please, please don't fall_ , she begged her aching fingers, gritting her teeth in concentration.

Ori reached for her then, but his action caught her so off guard that she let go of the handhold in surprise. Thankfully, her fingers managed to grasp another handhold a few feet lower, but now, Jasmine realized, she was even more out of the reach of the dwarves.

 _Maybe I should just let go_ , Jasmine thought, looking up at the frantic dwarves with a contemplating look. _I've always wondered what it would feel like to fall from such a high distance. I wonder if it would hurt much when I reached the bottom._

But at that moment, Thorin swung himself down next to her, one of his hands clasped around the top of the ledge that the other dwarves were standing on, and his other arm reaching around her. With a grunt, he heaved her over the top of the ledge, allowing her to land at the dwarves' feet, draped over the edge of the sill. She quickly pulled herself fully onto the ledge and then peered over into the chasm again, watching in horror as Thorin's own hold on the ledge slipped from the relentless beating down of the rain, and as he slipped further down the mountain.

Dwalin lept to the edge, reaching nearly his whole body down to reach his leader, his face scrunched up in focus. Behind him, Fili and Balin wrapped their arms around his middle so as to keep him from falling off as well. After much grunting and heaving and pulling, the three of them managed to get Thorin safely back onto the ledge.

Jasmine let go of a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"I thought we'd lost our burglar," Dwalin said, still panting.

"It wasn't Elle who almost fell off a cliff," was all that Thorin replied.

* * *

 **Ooh, Thorin just threw some serious shade. ;P**

 **For clarification, Thorin doesn't view Jasmine as the burglar of the company at the moment-he believes Elle has assumed that role already.**

 **Please favorite, follow and review! It encourages me to keep writing the story!**


	13. Chapter 13: A Pretty Price for Your Head

Elle awoke to the sound of hissing. A spitting, crackling hissing, whose raspy cry snaked around the room like a serpent.

The company had taken cover in one of the caves near where Jasmine had nearly fallen, and had settled down to get some rest.

That was, until the hissing noise woke them all up.

Sitting bolt upright, Elle saw the source of the sound: a path was, seemingly magically, forging it's way through the sandy floor, forming a sort of crack around the cave. Around her, the other dwarves were waking up too, the confusion on their faces clear.

"What's going on?" Ori cried, at the same time that the floor collapsed beneath them.

Screaming, Elle found that her body was plummeting down a long, dark chute, her back banging painfully against some sort of sharp, rocky wall as she fell. _What's happening?_ She continued to scream, her cries joining in with the shouts of surprise and fear of the other dwarves.

Looking beneath her, she saw a small circle of light that seemed to be fast approaching. _We're growing closer to the bottom of whatever chute we're in_ , Elle realized, both relieved and terrified at the same time. The good news was, soon, they would no longer be falling through this painful, dark tunnel. The bad news was, she doubted that whatever awaited them at the end of their fall was any better.

Finally, the company went flying out of a sort of spout, their bodies pinwheeling through the air before crashing into a sort of cage-like net. Around them, Elle could see that they were at the center of a kind of rotunda, with horrid, sniveling creatures watching them from various perches carved into the arching walls around them. The place was lit by eerie light emitted by sets of torches, and the air was thick and muggy. It smelled rather terrible too, Elle observed, gagging slightly.

But what was most disturbing about their new surroundings was the noise. Jeers and shouts filled the air, and a horde of the creatures she had seen watching them from around the rotunda were now hurdling towards them on a sort of wooden bridge that led to their wooden cage.

 _Goblins_ , Elle realized, identifying the recognizable ear shapes and postures. _Not good news_ , she added to herself, gulping. If they were now surrounded by goblins in a sort of goblin kingdom, then that meant that the Goblin King, a legendary brute who was rumored to live beneath the Misty Mountains, might not be far away.

But before she could make any more deductions, the horde of goblins reached them, and began pawing at all of them, pulling them one by one out of their cage and onto the wooden bridge. A particularly snivelly goblin grabbed Elle by her cloak and dragged her after him as he pulled her onto the rickety bridge. In front of her, she saw several more goblins heaving Kili, Jasmine, Thorin and Nori after them as well.

Elle suddenly felt the goblin's grip on her loosen, and then, disappear entirely. Turning around in shock, she saw the goblin return to the cage to help its fellow goblin heave Bombur upright and out of the wooden cage. But when the two goblins finally got the portly dwarf onto his feet, her previous captor seemed to have forgotten all about her, and was now helping the other drag Bombur behind them.

Before long, Elle found that the entire pack of goblins had passed by her, leaving her the only person left standing there. Nori, she had noticed, had turned around and watched her slip away, but as far as she knew, no goblins had noticed her escape.

Her initial relief soon morphed into a new feeling of confusion and fear. What was she going to do now? Although she was happy to be free from the pushing and dragging of the goblin horde, she wasn't as thrilled to be separated from the company.

 _Do I follow them?_ Elle wondered, turning to take the path further down the bridge that the dwarves and the goblins had taken.

Deciding that yes, she should follow them, Elle unsheathed the sword that she had found in the troll cave and, gulping, crept along the bridge after the company. Her sword, Elle realized with alarm, was glowing bright blue. _Is this supposed to be happening?_ Elle asked herself, regarding the sword with fascination.

But before she could examine the sword any further, a screech from directly in front of her snapped her attention back to reality. She looked up, and, just in time, was able to deflect the attack of a very angry goblin who must have appeared within the last few moments.

Urged on by pure adrenaline, Elle deflected blow after blow before finally sensing a window of vulnerability in the goblin's defense and plunging her glowing sword into the brute's side. It howled in pain and then grabbed her by one of her arms to keep itself upright. Struggling to get out of it's grasp, Elle tripped over a loose plank in the rickety wooden bridge, and the two of them went plummeting over the edge of the platform.

 _This is the second time I'm falling in only a couple of minutes_ , Elle remarked, as she fought the urge to scream. Shouting, she knew, would only attract the attention of more goblins to her predicament, and she was sure that she wouldn't be able to fight off any more of them.

Her downward flight, however, was cut short by the sudden feeling of ground beneath her body, and she saw her vision go black.

* * *

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?" the Goblin King screeched.

 _Two of those are true_ , Jasmine thought bitterly, watching as the great, hulking Goblin King stood up from his throne, squashing a pile of much smaller goblins under his feet as he did so.

"Dwarves, Your Malevolence," a goblin supplied.

"Dwarves?" the Goblin King repeated.

"We found them on the front porch," the same goblin added.

"The 'front porch'?" Kili whispered in her ear, snorting in amusement.

"Well, don't just stand there; search them! Every crack, every crevice!" the Goblin King commanded, before Jasmine could respond to Kili. At once, the goblins around them crushed them beneath their eager, searching arms, sticking their fingers into the company's pockets and sheaths, hurling any weapons they found onto the ground in front of the Goblin King. Out of the corner of her eye, Jasmine saw one of the goblins snatch Oin's hearing trumpet and squash it under its foot.

"What are you doing in these parts?" the Goblin King asked, one the goblins around them had deemed their search finished. "Speak!" he shouted, when no one answered him.

Beside her, the dwarves looked blankly ahead, none of them daring to be the one to relay their business in the Misty Mountains to the Goblin King.

"Well then, if they will not talk, we'll make them squawk!" the Goblin King said at last, a cruel smile crossing his lips. Great cheers erupted from the goblins surrounding them. "Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the youngest." He pointed a menacing finger at Ori, and one of the goblins reached to grab the frightened dwarf by the arm and bring him forward.

"Wait!" Thorin bellowed, and silence fell over all of them, even the cheering goblins.

"Well, well, well, look who it is," the Goblin King's smile broadened. "Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror; King under the Mountain." He gave a mock little bow. "Oh, but I'm forgetting, you don't have a mountain. And you're not a king. Which makes you... nobody, really."

Jasmine saw Thorin bristle, his face contorting in anger.

"I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head," the Goblin King said, taking a step towards Thorin. "Just the head, nothing attached," he added, with an amused giggle. "Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A Pale Orc astride a White Warg."

Thorin's eyes widened in disbelief. "Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago," he spat.

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" The Goblin King gave a mighty laugh, and then turned to a small goblin that was suspended in a sort of seat hanging on a pair of wires. "Send word to the Pale Orc; tell him I have found his prize." The small goblin gave a cackle, and then skittered slid away.

 _We're so done for_ , Jasmine thought, watching as the Goblin King advanced on Thorin.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! If you're looking for some more Hobbit fanfics, please check out my other two stories, The Daughter of Fire and Greed, and The Moon's Dream. I'll be updating this story again sometime tomorrow or Sunday, I imagine. :)**

 **Also, every favorite, follow and review is greatly appreciated, and encourages me to keep writing! :) Thank you for your continued support!**


End file.
